Familiar Eyes
by In caverns dark
Summary: A person wakes up from our world in a frozen wilderness with a Pokémon by his side. Join him as he tries to find out how to get home, learn his new abilities and overcome the challenges that this new world brings up against him. A GoT/ASOIAF Pokémon story. SI (Self Insert).
1. Chapter 1 - A Hole in the Ground

**Familiar Eyes GoT/ASOIAF-Pokémon SI**

 _Chapter 1 - A Hole in the Ground._

Through the forest a pack of five Direwolves ran, their paws making little to no sound on the frost covered ground beneath them. Their backs loaded with hare and bags of berries and herbs tied down with crude vine like rope. The lead wolf carried a small humanoid figure wrapped in thick bark like cloth and had features reminiscent to that of a Deer.

His name was Root and he was a Child of the Forest.

Root was a hunter of his tribe, and he was coming back from a successful hunt.

His tribe was one of the many that lived north of The Wall, though he had never met another, their Elder spoke of them occasionally though not in great detail. But that didn't matter too much, his tribe needed his strength as well as that of all the other hunters to stay fed. Especially with the first frost of Autumn arriving.

He looked to the north and the storm that had come up towards him at a fast pace. He focused his mind and his wolves began to ride harder in the hopes that he would miss the freezing rain. Illness would not do him any good and by the spirits he would not spend any number of days bedridden when his work was needed.

As he rode forth he saw, the red leaves and white bark of the Weirwood that marked his home. Atop a large hill beneath which ran the tunnels and cavern that his tribe lived in.

He saw his sister, Nails standing watch at the entrance of one of those tunnels and stiffened his back. He would rather not speak to her as she still hadn't warmed up to him after giving birth.

As the wind grew colder he though back to the summer now at an end and felt sorrow for the gulf that had appeared between he and the sister that he had once cared for so much.

He walked in and found himself enveloped in shadow, the smell of dry earth and the warmth of his home supported by the magic of the Elder and the Gods.

His catch would see that his son would be fed and not left to wander the cold when winter came and food ran scarce. The Elder always let the babes starve before able hunters when resources ran low.

One by one he and his pack walked down the root lined tunnels till they reached the central cavern, he paused in surprise for a moment as he found that it was filled with members of his tribe rushing around in a hurry. He dismounted and with the use of his abilities made his pack move into their own burrow as members of the tribe quickly took the goods off of their backs.

"The Elder wants you Root." he heard and without question he made his way to the Elders chamber, dodging the frenzied activity of the tribe around him.

When he arrived. In the Elders room he saw him. The Singer of the Earth, old and frail wrapped in the roots of the Weirwood, but eyes wide open dripping tears of blood. His expression identical to the solemn one carved in the trunk of the tree high above their heads.

"Child," the Elder began, eyes glancing around, focusing anywhere but directly at Root.

"Elder." He replied.

"You are the last to return. Good."

"Elder?"

"Before the sun sets my child we will be attacked" he said, freezing Root in his place. There had never been an attack on there home.

"Who is it?" he asked, would it be the men with their steel and maddened minds or perhaps the ones of ice that all the stories spoke of. Maybe the Giants would rip their home from the ground. He thought of the storm in the distance and felt it shake his bones.

"An old enemy." Was the response.

"Can't we stop them? Wouldn't your magic-"

"Do not _interrupt_ child." The Elder let out a long sigh and crumpled to let the roots hold him up. In all his time Root could not remember seeing him this weakened. "The spiders have stirred and have a Giant amongst them." the Elder explained and Root thought of the times that the older hunters spoke to him of the creatures.

"I know not why he has joined the beasts, maybe he wishes to herd them. You and the hunters will need to be assembled and ready to defend us. I shall try to keep them at bay but my kind are silent to me. Should I be unable to do so I shall rely on you and all my children to do what it needed."

"My-"

"They outnumber us ten to one, but we are not without our own skills. Say farewell to your young ones."

Root stood in shock and as the Elder closed his eyes knew that there was nothing to be said. Only one thing to be done. He walked out to see his son in the nursery. As he left he heard the Elder shout to himself, "my kin. Answer me!"

-

Nails stood watch cursing her coward of a brother. It was all his fault somehow. First he had to sleep with her just because the Elder had told him to, all those years of helping him and supporting him and beating up all the other young who had brought him down and he still hadn't grown a backbone.

And now, here she stood gazing at the field of spiders, each a quarter of her size but numerous beyond words, clad in their pale white shell and fangs dripping with poison. In the middle of it all stood a giant figure that she believed was the giant that was said to be leading them, though it was covered in the insects and she couldn't see the flesh beneath the swarm.

By her sides stood six of her sisters, slings in their arms and fire rocks in pouches on their hips, would they do anything to stop the attack? Probably not. But the plan was that if the enemy was not pushed back by whatever the Elder and his apprentices had pulled together, victory would come from the Hunters and their Direwolf packs coming around from the rear when the Spiders found themselves caught in the traps that were hidden before them.

When the Hunters were dead and they all starved through the winter? That was a question for the Elder to decide. But she would not bear a child with any other to rebuild their numbers once more. It was hard enough to not kill her coward of a brother when he did.

For now however she was just waiting for the beast to make a move, the time ceased. The ground shook. She heard a large explosion behind her.

"What?" she gasped.

"They're inside" came the scream from the tunnels. But how?

"Block the tunnel, stop them!" Came more cries. Her sisters got up from being knocked down and wondered if they should rush in.

"Move the young ones!" the shouting continued and just as she and her sisters began to move the sounds of hundreds of moving spiders from the host before them stopped them all.

She closed her eyes and readied her sling. Her fool brother better abandon their orders and protect their child. By the Gods she prayed as her sling let loose. He better save their son.

-

Root rode his way through the tunnels, his pack following behind, praying that Nails would forgive him for letting her fall to the horde, but he had to protect their young one.

He heard the sound of the other hunters coming up behind him and as he burst into the central chamber.

He found a massive tunnel coming out of the ground in the centre. Spiders crawling out of it like a oozing wound.

"Gods make me brave" he prayed.

The tribe were in retreat to the edges. "Charge!" He heard a fellow hunter shout and lead his pack straight to the heart of the swarm, his bow firing flint and bone arrows into the mess.

He heard a sharp scream come from the Elders cavern.

The warmth of his home vanished and the ground shook. He fell off of his wolf. Who rushed forward to snap a spider in two.

Everyone around him was screaming.

Before him the hunter that charged fell into the swarm, he and his pack eaten alive.

He gripped a dagger and climbed to his feet. He was going to protect his home.

-

Thump thump thump.

"Ready!" Nails screamed as the spiders crawled over the bodies of their dead.

Thump thump thump.

"Loose!" and as one the six explosives flew, only half hitting the mass true target. The Giant that was running towards them at full speed.

"Throw them, throw them!" She screamed as it neared. The spiders falling off it when the explosives hit like a sort of armour.

Then it leapt over them.

Ran up the tree to the Weirwood at its top and ripped it apart from its roots.

"Gods" she whispered as the Giant screeched and turned to her.

Its bright blue eyes freezing her body in place.

"Others."

The Giant was one of _theirs_. The frozen enemy. And that meant-

"The Spiders are nearly here Nails," one of her fellow slingers shouted, "we have to go inside!"

 _Yes_ she said to herself. They couldn't beat this, they had to run.

And then a ball of fire fell from the sky and blew up the Giant.

 _What_.

She turned her head and saw highlighted against the dark grey sky a large orange dragon with a flaming tail.

"ZZZAARRDD" it roared. Circling around and launching a spray of flame on the advancing spiders, creating a wall between themselves and the insects.

"By the Gods" she whispered.

The winged beast flew down to her and began to glow a bright white light that transformed it into a Direwolf that was white, black and bright orange as it landed.

It walked up to her group, and only then did she notice the figure that sat on top of the creature. It looked like a smaller giant wrapped up in furs.

A _man_. She realised

"Tme lok sa ru?" It spoke in a strange tongue a top its beast as she stepped back unconsciously.

Then the screeching began and she noticed the flames dying down.

She saw the man take out a sword from the cloth around his waist and a shield off his back, both made of the metal that the elder spoke of in his tales.

The Firewolf turned to the spiders and launched small balls of fire through them.

She looked to add her own ammunition in support but found that she had run out. She looked to her sisters and found then launching their last.

She looked back to the tunnel behind her. And saw a sight she didn't expect to see as Root and his fellow hunters came out. Though many of their numbers were gone and their bodies were all covered in filth and blood.

"Nails" he began when he saw her. "Is that-"

"A man and a Firewolf! What does the Elder say we do?"

"The Elder is dead," he responded.

"What?" she gasped in shock.

"The spiders tunnelled inside, the tribe is mostly safe but the Elder and many of his apprentices are dead. What of the spiders?" he asked.

"They're there. The Giant is gone because of the Man," she said pointing to the person on the Firewolf who had stopped throwing flames, seemingly exhausted and catching its breath. "What do we do?"

"We could go inside and seal the tunnels," one of his companions said.

"And the human?" one of her companions responded, "he saved our lives."

"He can come inside," came the response.

"We will starve without food for the winter and they will attack us again." She looked at all the hunters and said in a grave voice, "the Giant. It's eyes were the bright blue of the Others."

They stood in silence as this thought gripped them all. The winds of the storm growing wilder and wilder. "Where are the Gods?" she heard one weep.

"Ey!" he human barked catching all of their attention, pointing to the spiders who now moved forward through the dead flames.

"So we all go back inside and seal the tunnels?" she said gathering nods from them all. But stopped when she heard. Movement from the human and saw him charging the horde, the beasts mouth spitting fire at the swarm.

"Shit" she heard Root curse as he rushed forward on his Direwolf. His smaller pack following behind him.

They all looked at each other as the Hunters all joined the charge.

The Slingers all looked in shock.

Nails grinned, "Looks like the Gods gave you some sense brother."

She lifted up her hunting spear and joined them all charge. Rushing over the fields as the beast circled around the edge of the horde that chased him mindlessly. Its flames launching at the mass at every opportunity, the arrows of the hunters and the teeth of the Direwolves doing the same at every opportunity.

By the time they reached the battle. The spiders had began to retreat en mass.

The battle was over.

She did not expect it to be this easy but the smell of ash filled her nostrils and she wondered if she had overestimated their foes.

No, she corrected herself, looking at the scar of black across the land and the still burning corpses. All beasts fear fire.

They took a lift upon the Direwolves and with arm motions guided the man into their home.

Nails felt an overwhelming joy, they would survive the night. Then, looking at the flaming remains of the Weirwood and the flaming corpse of the Giant felt dread.

They may not survive the winter.


	2. Chapter 2 - Light of the Sun

_Chapter 2 - Light of the Sun._

I've spent ten days in this freezing hell. Didn't even have time to ask myself if I was dreaming. The freezing cold stopped that thought long before I could entertain it.

You see, when I woke up I found that I two sets of senses where previously I only had one. The reason? I had two bodies. I found myself with what could only be described as a familiar, or maybe an avatar. A second body that I could control. The body of the legendary Pokémon Mew. A shiny one at that.

To say I was glad for the power up would be an understatement… at least by the time I stopped panicking and moaning about being ripped from my home and loved ones. The dread I felt of them waking up to find me _not_ there all of a sudden.

Then I realised I was now either 50% Pokémon God, human controlling a psychic kitten that could blow my brains our or a Mew animating a human that looked suspiciously like me.

Unfortunately I found myself in the middle of an icy wasteland with only my clothes. Fortunately I was also a blue furred kitten God.

The first thing I did was try and use Transform. It was harder than expected but I did manage a Charmander to keep myself warm and set about listing my priorities. In this frozen wasteland warmth was near impossible to find as was food. So I made a quick decision. I Transformed my Mew form into a Charizard and, following the light of the distant sun rode south on the back of a Dragon.

And promptly crashed into the ground.

Turned out that flying was rather difficult.

So I did the next best thing and Transformed Mew into a Arcanine and rode south. It was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be to run on all fours and use a tail for balance but I soon found myself in a rhythm.

My human body fell into a trance as I watched the landscape be eaten up under my paws. Arcanine's body heat or the fact that it could, through its strange biology carry on running when night fell and my human body fell asleep was an added boost when I first caught sight of vegetation and islands of evergreen trees.

By the third day I found the pangs of hunger attack and quickly made a makeshift hole in the ground as a shelter and sent Arcanine to track down a scent that I had caught, only to have half burnt rabbit as my first meal.

The forth day started with the rumblings of a distant snowstorm that quickly tore through my shelter, I stayed under Arcanine, it's warmth keeping my human body safe from death. Though my Pokémon form didn't do so well. I thought I had known cold before. But not like this, like all the warmth in the world would vanish.

Eventually the storm passed but it had taken its price. My human body was cold beyond words, Arcanine like it was going to die.

My human self tried to rebuild some form of shelter as I felt Arcanine's strength wane the more time dragged on. So weak that I couldn't even transform it back into Mew.

I didn't hear the polar bear come up behind me until it slammed into my human body with the weight of a train and cut off all the senses coming from it like a light turning off.

It was a strange sensation, like I was asleep on the back of Arcanine in those days of running across the snow. But I wasn't asleep, I was dead. I thought of the bear feasting on my corpse.

It made me sick.

I could imagine its red snout covered in my blood.

It had to die.

I dragged Arcanine's body forward with what little remained of it strength to where my human body was last to only see the corpse of a bear speared through an exposed branch that had been behind my human body.

My human body was still breathing, knocked out.

I thanked all the Gods that I could think of once my body recovered.

We fed on polar bear that night by a burning tree that night and recovered our strength. I heard the wind blow. I felt that that was the last of my luck. My karma spent, a warning given.

I could not afford to be foolish any longer.

Day five I realised that survival wasn't enough if I didn't start thinking ahead.

What I had, in the form of Mew what was essentially the greatest Swiss army knife ever made. More than that I had a pantheon, of which certain beings had control of space and dimensions which I could just use to try and get me home.

Unfortunately it turned out that I couldn't access them, at all. None of the legendaries were available other than Mew whose form could lift itself and small rocks with Psychic but little else.

So I decided to take another route and not think about how I hadn't even thought about what was the most obvious route to me returning home.

I transformed Mew into Skarmory and sliced off the remainder of the bears fur with a metal feather I ripped off of myself with some effort. I tried to clean the fur in the snow and after drying above a fire ended up with a bloody pelt to help keep the cold away.

I then made myself a very crude set of scale armour, short sword and shield with the help of my ability to Transform into Skarmory for the metal, a mix of fire and rock types to hammer the metal into the shield and sword and for the scale armour and Leavanny to sew it all together with the polar bear fur.

It was not the best of equipment. A Short sword that had more akin with an oddly shaped metal rod, a somewhat oval shield slightly larger than a buckler of varying thickness at different parts and bear fur woven in with metal feathers that were extremely painful to extract. It was heavy, crude and poorly forged. But it made the squishy human part of me feel a whole lot safer in case of another bear attack.

Day six began with me not wearing the scaled furs as it was needlessly heavy and the metal made wearing it uncomfortable. Fortunately having two bodies meant I could multi task and I set my human body the job of trying to use the sword and shield. On one hand the exercise kept me warm even without the fur or Arcanine's fur. On the other hand I am completely sure that I looked like a complete idiot.

This day was also when practice for my new body started.

Step one was fire. I had managed to get small embers out of Arcanine and tried over and over again to trigger that heat in his, no, _my_ stomach and get something more than an ember. Ember was all I got and I soon found that Arcanine's fire was at it's limit. Then came Mew's turn.

It's hard for me to explain just why, in all those days of running across the snow I stayed as a Arcanine, but I quickly found myself growing familiar with its form, it warmth, the fact that it was merely a larger dog with tiger stripes and spat fire.

Mew, _Mew_ was a different matter. Weaker than Arcanine, more _alien_.

But I had to practice, and so I did. I reached out with senses that weren't mine in a body that was not mine and felt the world around me as only a Psychic could. I felt the snow beneath all around me, the trees that surrounded me, the corpse of the bear that tried to kill me, the ashes of the fires that kept me warm all these days.

I grabbed with a branch these alien senses and _lifted_ it. Picked another and made it rise. A third and a fourth. Then something snapped and Mew fell to the ground with a thud. It was exhausting.

And frustrating. Mews power was in its abilities, abilities that I was already making use of with Transform but weren't nearly as awe inspiring as feeling the strength of Arcanine's muscles rip up clouds of snow.

I needed more practice.

So practice I did and quickly found a side effect to having a second body that I had not noticed before.

Mew, compared to myself seemed to have a dramatically greater intelligence, one that I had access to now that it wasn't in Arcanine's form. It was as if the world was opened up to me and things I had not considered in my obsessive run south were rising up to the surface.

Like learning moves and abilities in a Pokémon's prior evolutions may allow me to learn them quicker.

That my life was gone.

That I may get it back if I tried harder to master my new body.

That Arceus would strike me down for the blasphemy of puppeteering a Legend if he ever found me.

I cut through the doubt and Transformed into Charizard. It was time to learn to fly.

On day nine I finally learnt how to fly but only by practising as a Pidgey first and climbing my way up through Pidgeotto. Thankfully I had also gained a lit of practice throwing out balls and streams of fire, what type of attack they would classify as I wasn't exactly sure but expending too much energy still left me quickly exhausted.

Eventually I looked to the direction of the sun and continued on my journey south to warmth and civilisation. Presuming that I was in the northern hemisphere of my world, and that there actually was civilisation somewhere nearby.

On the end of the tenth day as I flew a turned to find that a storm had crept up on me. I prepared to land and saw a colony of green children fighting off Ice spiders and an Ice giant that ripped of a familiar white tree with red leaves.

Needless to say, when the battle was done and the enemy routed I was not happy to find myself in Westeros fighting about a thousand Ice Spiders and a Giant whilst my Pokémon body was already exhausted as hell from flying.

Either way, as I rode into the burrow that housed the Children of the Forest all I could think about was how tired I was and how I couldn't put my guard down against the species that may or may not hate my guts and may or may not have created the Others. Hopefully saving their lives would cut me some clack. If not I have plenty of firepower.

Fuck, I hope they speak English.

* * *

 **A/N: Two stand in the forest. A man and a bear? Who holds the power?**

This chapter was the basic outline of the snowflake ability the SI has. A Mew as a 'second body' so to speak but not really a powerful one and stuck in a extremely harsh environment. The idea came from the 'what if you were your avatar' threads. Then I though 'What if I was both me and my avatar? ' If anyone could screw up me being a Mew and having crack shenanigans it's me being a human dragging it to the earth.


	3. Chapter 3 - Under the Hill

_Chapter 3 - Under the Hill._

To Nails death was a part of life. One entwined with the coming and going of the seasons, the silencing of the young when winter starved them as the hunters were in more need of food, the smiles that vanished when another hunter or gatherer walked or rode off into the woods never to return again.

The situation that they were in now was different. There weren't many dead from the aftermath of the battle but a significant number of Direwolves and a sizeable number of hunters were killed meaning that food would become a little more scarce.

They had enough food for now, but the future of their people looked bleak. Especially with a quarter of their number healing from injuries gained in the ambush. There was the very real possibility that they may find themselves silencing more young when winter came.

But that was nothing compared to the loss of the Elder and many of his apprentices. Not to mention to the loss of the Heart Tree. The warmth of their home was gone. A number of fires lit by wood, and increasing the layers of fur and cloth was the only thing stopping them all from freezing to death.

Nails looked over to her brother Root whose wounded face, arms and legs were covered in wraps and the paste that the apprentices had applied to him to help heal. Just like all the others who were injured in the fight.

Most sat around the fires looking into them listlessly. Others lay in beds, recovering the that day that had just gone by.

Death use to feel like survival, a necessary price to pay to live another day. Now it felt like hopelessness. Looked like the haunted, hopeless eyes of the clan. Sounded like the howling storm that raged outside.

She looked over to the human, sleeping with his head on the walls. In his lap a pale blue kitten with deep blue eyes lay watching them all.

At this point it was clear that whatever the creature was, it was not what it appeared to be given its nature as a shape changer. Not that she too worried, the human seemed to have firm control of it and the human had saved them all from death. Despite the fact that he was a Man, with the dreaded weapons men were known to carry on his person. They all owed him everything they had for saving their lives. She just hoped that he could keep control of the creature that travelled with him.

"You look lost in our home," an unsure voice came from her side. She turned and saw the familiar face of Root. In his arms was their babe looking up at her with his deep brown eyes, still unnamed since the Elder would not give them one if they could not walk on their own two feet. With the Elder's death, a name may never be given to him.

"It doesn't feel like our home any more." she replied, noticing that theirs were some of the first words after the battle that wasn't an instruction from one of the Elders apprentices to get some rest, eat some food and not move too much.

"It's still out home." he replied in what seemed to be a reassuring tone. Though she didn't really believe it.

"The Elder is dead, the Heart Tree is gone, burning above us and as good as the few apprentices are they can not fix any of this." She noticed several of her listless tribe members had taken an interest in their conversation.

"We have the seeds to start again, we will grow strong again."

"When" she replied, holding her tone back at the wide eyes of her son. He never liked it when they argued, "how many winters will it take?"

"As many as it will. We are strong together. We managed to stop the enemy."

"We stopped nothing," she whispered sharply. "He did," she said pointing at the Man who's pet's blue eyes looked back at them. "and when _they_ come for us with their army of the dead? Who will stop them?"

"Then what do you say we do?" he replied calmly, diverting his eyes away from hers, his bravery fading.

"We leave."

There was silence in the cavern until a rush of angry words exploded from all around them cursing her idea as insane, causing the young to cry and the once sleeping injured to wake in surprise.

She hadn't realised so many were listening in.

She looked down at her son who was also crying and took him gently out of Root's hands as he looked back at her in shock of her words.

As the voices around her and the tears of her child calmed down Root replied, "We would never survive. The summer is nearly over and we have too many injured. We have no choice but to stay."

"Stay and die."

"No, we live... My love," he began before being silenced by her glare. She hadn't forgotten him for _that_ yet. He returned his eyes to the ground, "we have to stay, the Elder had a plan for us and he was the greatest of us all."

" _Was_ ," she replied.

"Yes," he conceded. "But he was still our Elder and the father of our tribe. We would not survive without him. We stay here and grow again. Grow stronger."

"You don't understand do you?" she replied.

"No, _you_ don't. We have little food, and know nothing about the world beyond the high hills. Where would we go? What would we eat when what little we have runs out and the winter snow comes in? The Direwolves are mostly gone, so who would protect us against the Giants and the Spiders and Men and the _Others_?"

Their home was silent apart from the crackling of the flames. The Man's creature looked back at them with it's wide blue eyes.

"Who will carry our injured? And our children? And keep them from the cold?" He continued and she remembered the reason she had stood with their brother all that time ago, that spark of bravery that was lost when the Elder told him to obey. "We stay here or we die. The Elder will take care of us, he has always taken care of us."

'He's dead' she thought, 'he can't protect anyone any more.'

Root continued "By the Gods that surround us, he kept us safe and gave us our son."

She closed her eyes and let her flash of anger subside. It wasn't the Elder that had to give birth, nor was it he that had to suffer the bit before that.

"You don't understand," she replied softly, "we don't leave on our own. We leave with the human." and once again their home was filled with cries of outrage. But this time she would not stand to let it continue and screamed "STOP!"

Nails looked around at her home, her family and told them, "You weren't there. If he wasn't with us we'd al be dead. All of us. The Giant had ripped the Heart Tree in two and all our traps and weapons couldn't slow the endless Spiders. Then _he_ came down on a Dragon and killed the Giant and then the Dragon turned into the Firewolf that you saw come in and torched the rest of the Spiders and saved all our lives."

"He's a Man" was Root's response.

"He saved our lives, All of them."

"He'll kill us all!" Came a shout from around them. She turned to see Hidden Path sit up from where he was resting. His dark furs and scarred face marking him for what he was. The experienced, distant hunter whose entire pack of Direwolves had just been slaughtered. "Do you remember nothing of what we were told. They will come and kill us all, destroy our Heart Tree."

"Were you born stupid when your mother lay you out like a painful shit." Nails sneered remembering all the times she had done so before, though back then it was in defence of her brother. "There is _no_ Heart Tree. It's gone!"

"Spoken like a true whore forsaken by the Gods." came his dismissive reply. "You would do well to think of your shit spawn before trusting Men. We can always regrow, we will always recover. We can not recover from the men coming here."

"Then you will face his fire beasts!" Nectar, one of her fellow Slingers intervened. "Nails is right, you're running away from the truth, we need him and his beast!"

"Then we'll warg the creature!" he shouted.

"NO!" Nails roared, "you do that and I will rip the cocks of-"

"Shut up!" screamed someone.

This wasn't the first of her triads on those she disliked, nor was it the first time she was cut off before she could truly begin. She chose to continue quietly, "He saved our lives. We are nothing if we let him in our home and betray that trust."

"Then" Root intervened calmly, "we can convince him to stay."

"No." A unfamiliar voice said. "I plan on moving south." All eyes present turned to see the human, wide awake. "I will try and help you all and if you can tell me what you know of the area I will be grateful. But I can't stay forever."

It took a second for everyone to break out of their shock but then one of the injured hunters broke the silence, "Please don't kill us!"

The human blinked in what seemed to be confusion, "I don't plan to." Nails noticed that the old hunter that spoke, Fang spoke with a fear in him that she had not see before, one that was shared by a few of the older members of the tribe. "If anything I have something that may help… why do you think that I want to kill you. I helped you all?"

"Because," a new voice came in and Nails saw Willow with her dark red hair come from one of the side chambers, a bowl of sap held in her hands as she moved towards the injured, not once ceasing in her duties as the Elder's apprentice to help those injured. The old stories speak to us. Men have always come into our homes with their metal. Men have always burnt down the Heart Trees."

"Well" the Man replied "I am not those men."

"And how do we know that? The Elder may not be here to guide us but his wisdom is with us still. He speaks to us of the evils committed by man. Of the reason why he had to leave his own tribe to make ours."

"I know" she continued, looking at Nails, "that some of the younger ones may may disagree with some of his words. But he has given us a good life, a peaceful life. Food, warmth." Willow paused and looked down at the infant in Nails' arms, "children to call our own. We have no need of men. Men of iron and blood and fire."

"You are wrong." Nails was surprised when Root spoke up. "He saved our lives. All our lives. Even yours Willow. Nails is right, and here you stand talking about how the Man is evil. You haven't even stepped outside. Even now the corpses are being fed on by the beasts. My Direwolves are _dead_ and without the human I would be dead as well."

"I have my duties to take care of the sick" she replied, not once looking at Nails as she inspected the injured. "But when your sister speaks of leaving our home and you speak of letting the human stay I can not stay silent my child."

"I am not your child." Root replied. "And without the human we are all dead. The Elders dream dead with us. Unless he had the time to teach you any of his magic that would help us when the next attack comes."

"And who says that another attack will come?"

"It will come," Root insisted.

"It will come," Nails agreed. "The blue eyes of the walking dead I saw, they do not lie. _They_ come. For everyone."

And with that silence returned once more to their home, bar the crackling of the flames and the movement of Willow as she went about her duties.

"So" the human spoke up once more, reminding them all of his presence. "I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do. But I may be able to help your injured if I can have someone to practice on." No one moved for a while until Root sighed and began to move to the Man. Nails stood confused for a moment, where had this change of heart come form? He was unsure about the Man for a long while.

"I'm going to try something. Tell me if you feel any pain." The creature in his lap flew out and began to glow white until it transformed into a pink, egg shaped creature with a small white egg in a pouch on its belly. The creatures egg began to glow gold and flew out into Root's chest. Suddenly Root ripped off the wrappings on his arm and all present bore witness to the wounds vanishing.

The creature glowed and became a blue eyed, blue furred cat once more.

"I'll need some time before I can do this again, it's not the easiest thing to do. Until then, would you be able to offer some bread and salt, or anything else you have with you. I've been eating burnt rabbit and polar bear for the last week or so."

"It will be done, "Willow interrupted. She glanced at Hidden Path then back at the human, "none shall harm you here, those who do will find themselves abandoned by the Gods." Nails noticed the human's arm relax, a arm that she hadn't noticed till now was gripped firmly on his sword.

"Root," Willow commanded, "come with me, I shall check you for any injuries and lingering poison."

He nodded and they walked with her to the Elder's old place to do whatever rituals she wished.

All of a sudden the cavern felt a little warmer. If most of the tribe had chosen to stay then she would have as well. If guest right had not been offered then Hidden Path would have done something stupid, it was in his nature. She looked at her son staring at her with wide eyes and recalled that even Elders can break the laws of the Gods. If Hidden Path did do something stupid she would just have to do everything to stop him.

Maybe then the Gods would forgive her son.

Though she would tell Willow in time not to order her or any one ever. She was not the Elder. There would never be another Elder, especially not Willow.

A stray thought then hit her. How did the human learn to speak their tongue? Was he touched by the Gods?

* * *

 **A/N: Some people, never grateful, eh?**

 **Also Softboiled is the best way to deal with all the diseases in a Medieval setting, would recommend you taking it everywhere. Though given that [INSERT NAME] is a newbie it is extremely limited in use.**


	4. Chapter 4 - High in the Sky

_Chapter 4 - High in the Sky.  
_

Nails woke to a world that was vastly different to the one that she remembered. She would normally go about her work as directed by the Elder, little doubt of what her place was or what indignities she had to suffer in the name of their tribe but she did it regardless. It was her place, just as all the others had theirs, regardless of how much they may or may not despise it.

But with the death of the Elder she found no reason to carry on as she would have.

When she went into the central cavern she found many of the tribe in a similar state, sitting against the walls listlessly, a blank look in their eyes. It was not the same hopelessness they had the day before but it was not that much better.

With little better to do she sat with them. Mainly because there was something interesting to watch.

In the same place he was in yesterday the human and his cat seemed to be, from what she could tell, playing a game.

The human would throw a small stone up into the air, the creature would then begin to glow a eerie blue and the stone would stop mid-air covered in the same glow only to float down slowly into the humans waiting hands.

She felt a shiver crawl down her spine at witnessing their strange magic. The colour reminded her of the eyes of the giant from yesterday and she had to remember that this was not a creature of ice and death. That they had saved her life and the life of the tribe.

She owed them.

The creature moved over to a slightly larger stone, lifted it up with its abilities and gave it to the man who then proceeded to do the same as he had done before.

It was oddly mesmerising. She remembered the days when Root used to do the same with his first direwolf pup. Those days were gone now. All that was left between them was the shadow of regret. They had spoke a little in the battle and its aftermath but she held no illusion that they would reconcile. She hated him too much for that.

She heard some noise to the side and saw the familiar dark red of Willow's hair as she went around telling members of the tribe what to do for the day.

That was another thing that irritated her. What made Willow think that she was the only one that was fit to fill in for the Elder? All yesterday she had walked around speaking to others as if she was in charge now.

The Elder was dead and to bring his spirit to life in her actions was just as bad as what the Others would do. Some things are better off dead and to bring them back to life only brings them back all the more monstrous.

It was funny, that was one of the lessons that the Elder had taught time and time again to mothers whose young had been lost in the winter.

Nails picked up a stone and walked up to the man.

Both he and the beast stopped what they were doing and looked at her with synchronization that sent shivers down her spine.

She picked up her courage and walked closer to him.

She tossed her stone in the air and caught it again.

She tossed it a second time.

The third she tossed it lightly in the direction of the floating cat who stopped it in mid air with a blue glow and floated it slowly to her till it fell into the palm of her hand.

She threw it again and joined in on the humans game.

One by one a number of the tribe joined in and the creature managed to catch more and more stones, before the man called for some rest. Though Nails noted quiet a few had fallen through its grasp.

Of all that happened, Willow's frustrated face as she attempted to direct the distracted tribe that didn't want to listen to her orders and Root's look of longing as he went out on his direwolf to hunt filled her with a little joy.

After some food she and the rest of tribe went off to do their traditional duties with a little more joy than before. A few of the young who normally did little more than walk after their mothers continued to play with the man and his creature.

Some were pulled away by their mothers, others were not.

* * *

Root recalled when he was young. Before he was named. When the other young ones mocked him for being nameless and on how he would die when winter came. How he ran out in tears.

Nails defended him as she always did and he distinctly remembered her flinging Direwolf shit into one of their faces. But the words hurt and he ran outside to the foot of the Heart Tree. Beneath its stern face he wept.

When his tears dried he spotted ants crawling on its roots and was mesmerised by them. Walking in lines, each in their own place.

One of the Elder's apprentices came up and called him to the Elder who gave him the name Root and cemented his place in the tribe. They all had a place, a role to fulfil under the guidance of those who saw the greater scheme in things.

Yesterday he saw Nails go to the human and play with him, distracting the tribe from the job of collecting food for the journey that Willow had confirmed to the human they would accompany him on.

Didn't Nails know how much food was needed? How many supplies, how many animals captured and warged to help carry the tribe. The clothes and rope to be made for this journey?

For an idea that she proposed, and was unwilling to follow through on.

He loved his sister and always would, but she loved herself more than reality. That was the only reason she hadn't forgiven him. She may have been unwilling then, but they had a child now. She had all the reason to mend the broken bridge between them for their sons sake, even if she had no wish for that sort of relationship with Root himself.

He was only following the Elder's words. Words that gave him a life, a name and through following them, a son. Why could she not see?

There were no games today in their home. He and Willow had spread the word of their upcoming journey early in the day and all were working to prepare for the trials to come. Though the human was doing something strange once again.

Now his creature had changed to a strange metal bird from which he took several feathers.

The creature then turned into the Firewolf who heated the feathers up with its flames till they glowed red. It then turned into what could only be described as a boulder with a face and two arms that proceeded to hammer one side of the metal feather and sharpen the edges of the other. When the cycle of heating and hammering was done it turned into a small blue creature with a brown shell that launched a light stream of water from its mouth and cooled down the feather.

The human looked over to Root and called him over to gift him the item.

He thanked the human and went off to hunt once more. The item seemed to be a large dagger, it was in the correct shape and sharp enough to be one. However there was one problem, it was too flimsy and would likely be of little good after even one use. If it was smaller it would be ideal as an arrowhead, but it wasn't.

He kept the item though. Maybe the Gods had a use for it in his future. He couldn't tell. Or maybe the human did not realise his own role. Maybe the human didn't realise that he was not a crafter, he was the guide and hunter for their tribe.

Root thought of going over to the human, bending the flimsy dagger with his hands and showing him the error of his ways, showing him that his calling was not that of a crafter.

But Root didn't and carried on going forward, the hammering in the background fading away.

The human would realise his calling when it was appropriate.

Root thought back to when he was a child at the foot of the Heart Tree. The tree was gone but he was sure that the ants at its base weren't. Everything had its place and the Gods would place them there.

* * *

On the third day of the humans stay Willow walked outside to find him standing beside a large orange winged creature with a flame on its tail. A creature that the Elder once described in his tales as a Dragon.

"We leave tomorrow." Willow explained to the human who looked out onto the land before them.

"I know," he replied.

They spent more time looking out at the surrounding landscape, at the spider corpses that lay rotting, the black scars of the fires his beast had surely caused, the craters left by the slingers.

Willow sighed at the wasted time and asked, "are you not coming inside?" There was much to be done and not enough time to do it unless they were to stay longer to prepare, but they had set out a time line and looking at the human waiting out in what must surely be impatience. He may not take waiting longer as something he would tolerate.

"I'm going to fly," was his response as he climbed on the dragon's back. "Need some practice riding again before the long journey."

"Where will you be flying?" She asked.

"Just around," came his replied as he pointed around them in all directions. Willow had no idea what he meant by that, and then assumed the worst.

"If that is the case then I beg of you not to leave us."she said calmly. Willow wondered if the worst came to worst she could try and warg the beast before it left. It was taboo to take the beast of another but they had already broken one of the God's laws. What was another?

She felt terror grip her heart as the beast spread its wings out wide. "It's just a little ride," the human explained in a futile attempt to calm her down.

A moment passed where nothing happened.

The beasts wings retracted and she calmed down a little. "How about this. To make sure I don't run off how about you ride with me?"

Her panic returned, but she remained calm on the outside.

"I'm sure there is no need."

"I do need some practice with more than one rider" was the reply "and you don't have to worry about me running off without you. He reached out to her, "jump on."

She thought for a moment and looked up at the beast that glared at her just as its master did. She looked at those large teeth ready to swallow her whole and leave her people without any hope of surviving the winter if she tried anything foolish.

She grabbed the humans hand and she quickly found herself lifted up on the dragon's back with the human behind her.

"Hold on tight," he whispered. Then, in a blink of an eye she was hurtling up into the air, the wind slamming into her face.

She closed her eyes and held onto the beast with all her might as the wind kept rushing past her ears.

They quickly landed with a thud and she let go and threw herself onto the floor, hyperventilating all the while.

"When I said 'tight' I didn't mean _that_ tight," the human commented. But Willow didn't care much for that. She would not be flying again. Ever again. _Ever_.

"I am not meant to be in the sky," was her response.

"So if I offered another ride?" He asked.

"No." Was the immediate response.

"Okay." He sighed, "I'll stay here on the ground and we'll get some practice without a rider, is that enough to keep you happy that I'm not running away?"

"Yes" she replied, picking herself up off of the ground. "Are you sure you can keep it under control?"

The man nodded, "yes."

"That will be fine with me then. I shall return to readying the tribe for the journey to come." Willow responded and walking off, calling on someone to keep watch on the human. she was not made for flight. Ruling others on the other hand, that she could do. She was made for it.

* * *

Hidden between the trees a figure hidden in shadow watched a Dragon flying through the sky.

Its blue eyes did not blink. All it knew was that plans would have to be adjusted. A target had been found. A prize for their armies.

* * *

 **Unreliable narrators, what would we do without you?**


	5. Chapter 5 - In the Wood

_Chapter 5 - In the Wood._

Three days had passed before I left with the Children of the Forest from their home tom travel south and whatever chose to face us there.

Hopefully it wasn't Ice zombies though I had a Charizard if that was the case.

I'll be honest and say that there was a large part of me that didn't want the caravan slowing me down. That and the threat of being warged by one of them scared me to the core and I was more than ready to run as fast as I could out of the burrow they made for themselves.

Then the girl, Nails spoke up for me. And I had an epiphany about something that I hadn't thought of when I was worrying about my safety. They were all going to die. All of them, their species wiped out.

I didn't know how to feel about that. I wanted to help but this was Game of Thrones. Kindness gets you killed and as hard as it is for me to admit I'm not going to sacrifice my lives for theirs.

But I couldn't do nothing. So I promised an escort if they decided to go south.

They argued about staying in their home and the idea had some merit for but I couldn't discount the fact that I would not be able to stop the army of the dead by myself and whilst the Children in their last stand before I came over were rather brave from, none of them were as competent as Leaf was in the show.

Death's a part of life, I get that. But I just imagine my parents, the people I pass in the street back home, my bloody ancestors looking at me in shame if I had just left.

That was six days ago that began with a fear of being warged and betrayed, a feeling that lessened after being given food that didn't poison me and a game of catch.

When I healed the injured members of the tribe even Willow had lost enough of her scepticism in favour of coming with me. Though she and her fellow apprentices weren't all too keen on telling me much about their magic. From what I could see however it was mainly centred around making potions and other materials, along with the warging abilities that many of them had. Apparently this 'Elder' of theirs was the one that was their powerful Greenseer, one that was dead.

Now I was leading a convoy through the wilderness Beyond the Wall. A little more of a hundred Children of the Forest with around twenty five young. Twelve of these were Direwolf Riders who had mastered their craft to be able to warg whole packs that would go out and hunt for food and collect rare ingredients from the surrounding wood.

As we walked through the forest I looked back at our caravan. The children had no carts and were not suited for the long walk but during our days of preparation had gone out and warged around 40 Large Elk and some of the largest Deer I had ever seen standing just above my head as well as a pack of around 10 snow foxes and Boars with snow white fur that were as tall as my chest.

Each animal carried a Child of the Forest with supplies or a family, whilst the hunters scouted out ahead for safe paths and further supplies.

I looked to my side where Willow had decided to keep watch over me and then behind to where Nails rode up and down keeping the caravan together after they kept drifting apart.

They got a little frustrated by that and provided a variety of replies. "We know this forest," one would murmur, "what would a man know about this!" Came the outrage of another and they had a general consensus that "We always find our way back!" with some sense that I was sticking my nose where it didn't belong.

I replied by asking them in a polite manner, "What if you pricks get eaten by the bloody spiders!"

"We beat them once! We can beat them again," was their firm reply.

"I beat them once!" Was my quick reply, "And if you haven't noticed that there are around ten people missing!" Turned out they didn't know what then was, or any numbers for that matter, unfortunately I think that they got angry at the look of shock I had.

"They're doing as hunters do. They can be out for days before they come back."

"No," Nails interrupted, "They're gone, went back to the burrow."

"Why didn't you stop them?" I asked as many members of the tribe looked at her in shock. "Or tell me, I could have said something?"

"It was their choice," Nails replied, "they knew what they were going back to. We all know, if they wanted to leave there is nothing we could do to stop them."

For a moment there was silence as Nails rode off and we all came to the conclusion that many of those faces, even if they did survive, would never be seen again.

It was that thought that had the tribe wander away from the caravan less often though it cost us in the form of supplies that were slower in being replenished with the scavenging they would have otherwise done.

Then I thought of Nails who had so readily defended me. I wondered about the girl, did she just not realise the warning of ' obedience or death' she had just given the rest of her tribe or did she truly just not care about the choices of others as long as they made their choice knowing the consequences?

Were the Children like the free folk where freedom was a major thing and I was painting a dark picture on the girl's actions for what were essentially cultural reasons?

"How do you do it?" Willow asked me, snapping me out of my daydream.

"Do what?" I asked, getting off of Arcanine's back to walk a little and return some blood to my legs.

"Men can not sing our song." She replied. "Only the ravens. How do you do it? Who taught you?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." I replied.

"Our language," she clarified. "are you half born? Or do you have our blood in you. There are stories of abominations born from such." She paused to gather a thought before she looked at me and asked, "are you an abomination?"

"No," was my simple answer.

"Then how!" she asked in exasperation stretching out her arms in exasperation in those rare moments when she would lose her calm appearance.

"I just do," I shrugged, unable to find a reasonable lie in time. After all, downloading the information to speak from the collective surface thoughts of your tribe with my psychic kitten may not go down very well.

Though it would answer their questions on why I consistently use softboiled on myself. The language was not made for man and the sore throats hurt. That and the possibility of the plethora of medieval diseases I'm sure existed catching up with me.

"I'm sure you do" she replied sarcastically and quickly glanced down at Arcanine. "But I do expect an answer eventually."

"Eventually," I agreed. Making a mental note that it would be on the day I can get out of this crazy universe.

"But if you do not wish to speak of that then would you speak of your creature?"

"What do you want to know?" I asked getting back on Arcanine's back.

"I have never heard of a creature that could change its shape so, let alone of a Firewolf such as this. Of the healing Magic of the egg creature or of the Skycat."

"The what?" I asked before realising that she was speaking about the few Pokémon that I had showed. "You mean Arcanine, Chansey and Mew?"

"Is that what they are called?"

"Yeah," I responded. "This is Arcanine, he's like a tiger-lion-dog… on fire."

"And the others?"

"Chansey is like a egg-thing. And Mew _is_."

"Is?"

"Yup."

"Where are they from? Where is your shapeshifting creature from?" she asked.

"Kanto."

"and where is Kanto? Would it be to the south, or the east?" came the continued line of questioning.

"East of Johto and south of Sinnoh." I smirked.

"You know that I have no idea where these places are?" she asked and I nodded my head. "Would you care to explain then?"

"I'm not really sure," I shrugged.

She sighed in what seemed to be exasperation, "What do these places look like? They are something I've never heard of and if they have such strange creatures I'm sure that they are just as exotic. Do men live in these lands as well?"

"Don't know," I answered simply. "I've never been there," only to bring back a calm reply to my travelling companion.

"Truly?" she drawled, "can their abilities be taught?"

"No" I replied, "At least, I don't think so."

We fell in a silence that slowly became uncomfortable as I stared at her neutral face as we rode along.

Clearly she did not believing most of what I had just said.

A strange thing I had noticed about Willow was her red eyes and hair. Like leaves in autumn. A trait shared by the other apprentices though to a lesser degree. The rest of the tribe had green or yellow eyes and green to brown hair.

I took my time to study the rest of her face, the deer like facial markings and large ears, the eyes that were further apart than that of a normal person and made me occasionally flinch and look away as they fell into the uncanny valley and screamed _alien_ to my senses.

I looked down at what the tribe wore, animal furs that seemed to blend in with their skin and a crude set of armour made out of sheets of bark wrapped by vines. They all had this as well as the stone daggers and spears. Though a few had the metal ones I could make.

Then Arcanine smelt a familiar scent of Direwolf come from ahead of us and from the trees in the direction of the scent I spotted the outline of a pack of direwolves come towards me. Root riding in front as they came around to my side.

"There's a Cliff ahead, at the base of the mountain and giants, dead, all of them" he said in fear.

Willow sprung into action and calmed down the caravan as word quickly spread.

"What do you want to do?" Root asked and I thought on my options.

Run or investigate.

Running may be best but we may get an idea of what happened if we investigate. Then again if the Others woke the Giants whilst we were in the middle of the village it would mean many deaths.

I looked Root in the eye and told him, "take me there. Willow," I continued, "you Root and Nails will keep the tribe to the side while I investigate. If anything happens ride away from the place, but keep the group together. I'll catch up." She nodded.

"Root, before you do that, lead the way you saw it." I asked and he complied, moving his pack with streamlined precision.

I immediately rode after Root's pack, the nose of Arcanine the only way I had managed to keep track of his pack as they blended in with the forest almost effortlessly.

Soon into our trek we came upon a number of spider webs formed between trees, some had cocoons twice as large as I was. I quickly burnt them with an ember before moving forward.

Then the trees gave way to a wooden structure made of logs piled atop one another. There was a door to the front that seemed to have been smashed in, streaks of blood streaming out of it.

I motioned to Root to leave and a became painfully aware of the silence around me. The strings of web that caught on my face and stuck Arcanine's paws to the ground with every step.

A quick ember scorched the earth black and burnt the web away but the forest surrounding was laced with web and those large cocoons.

I stopped with an epiphany and threw embers into the cocoons as the webs burnt up, revealing the corpses of giants inside as their now burning bodies fell onto the floor with a thud.

No wonder the Others used spiders as their mount of choice. What other creature would be so adept as keeping the dead, their future troops so well preserved?

I crept forward atop Arcanine, ready to transform at a moments notice into Mew who would teleport me out of here. My short sword and shield were gripped, ready to hold back any foes that may try to attack me whilst the transformation took place.

I walked into the darkness of the wooden hall. Arcanine spat out an ember onto the stone floor that illuminated the place and found it empty of everything but blood streaked earth underneath.

I sighed in relief. No fighting today.

I looked outside and saw the sun setting.

We needed somewhere to sleep for the night. It would be dangerous but after seeing all the corpses outside it would be better to sleep inside than sleeping outside without walls, where spiders could be crawling anywhere.

Hopefully a water gun could wash the blood out.

An aromatherapy wash away the stink of death?

I threw up and mentally made note of something else to clean up.

Then I felt a shiver run up my spine and quickly rode back out to see the caravan on the ridge.

"Get over here!" I called whilst keeping a lookout.

I saw them move forward and replayed what Root had said originally. 'Giants' he said.

Yet, unless he had the ability to see through the cocoons. There would be nothing here save the blood.

How did he know the Giants were here? Unless in the time it took him to get me they were moved.

As the sun set the trees drew long shadows on the web covered grass below. A series of lines marked in the earth between the tribe and I as they moved closer.

Night drew close.

And the forest held something. Only time would tell if they made their move.


	6. Chapter 6 – Before the Moon

Chapter 6 – Before the Moon.

Fires lit the hall as the tribe huddled around them, their mounts by their side. The voices all hushed and fearful as they spoke of giants and spiders and things of ice in the shadows.

Willow fund it strange how the home of the giant so closely resembled their own, though made of fallen logs instead of earth. Though the entrance was walled off by the humans creature piling boulders in front of it.

The hall smelt of smoke that left through a small hole in the roof and a powerful scent of flowers after the man's beast had washed away the blood, but Willow could still smell it there, beneath the flowers and the smoke and she knew that all the others could as well. They were not fooled. But for tonight they could pretend that they wee not sleeping in this cursed place. Surrounded by corpses in webs and waiting for the enemy to do to them what they did to the halls previous residents.

Nails walked over to her a dark look on her face. "Do you still think we would have survived had we stayed?" she asked in a low tone.

"We may have had a better chance," Willow responded.

"Even without the human?"

"No." She responded, "I was wrong about that."

Nails grinned, "good to see you can learn. If you didn't I would have dragged you through the mud, and there's no one to keep you safe now."

"You speak of your son?" Willow sighed.

"I'm not likely to forget _that_ any time soon," came the answer.

"You still don't understand." Willow explained, "normally we would not have let it happen, it is not our way. It is not something that the Gods would approve."

"Then why?" Fury was etched on Nails face though she made sure to keep her voice down.

Willow thought back to the time the decision was made. "Because the Elder commanded."

"The _Elder_ " she hissed.

"I know you think little of him but think of this. Had your son not been born Root would not have led the riders inside and _all_ the young would have been killed. Our tribe would have ended that night all for that sake of your pride."

Nails stood stock still at this revelation, the thought that one who she had hated for so long, the one that had made her go through such a trial, something that had left her feeling alone, cast adrift from the tribe for such a time. That he was _somewhat_ justified in causing her suffering.

"Your son is nearing the age when he would be named yes?" Willow said snapping Nails out from her shock.

"Yes," Nails recalled how the Elder would name every child when they had lived ling enough."But the Elder-"

"Is not with us, but I'm sure another way to name him can be found" She answered the unanswered question. Of course Nails didn't need to know that she had invented that excuse for the Elders actions. That the real reason was not nearly as kind. But only one person other than her knew of that and Root knew better than to say anything about the truth.

Speaking of which, Root was walking over to them. "He wishes to speak with us all." He said pointing to the human who sat with his back against his creature, now in the form of the orange dragon that Nails spoke of all those days ago.

She did not speak of the heat that came off of it or its flaming tail. Many had bunched up around the creature though never too closely, basking in the warmth, though slightly weary of what the creature would do. Some of the hunters once more spoke of trying to warg it away from the man. She quickly removed those ideas from the fools.

After some reflection the Gods sent them aid in their moment of need. A thought that only became clearer when they walked out of their home across the many burnt spider corpses. A thought that had crystallised when they saw the cocoons that held the dead giants.

They sat around the human, once more outside of his furs and armour and like all the times before she was surprised to find very little strange about him compared to the woven metal feathers that he tended to wear. He was like a large Singer, but in a single colour. The patterns on the skin of the Singers, the braids and twigs and leaves, none of it was on the human, its ears were short and stubby, its eyes oddly placed. It seemed a sad life, when you had no leaves or flowers braided in your hair.

"So" he began, "we'll eat and set out tomorrow morning but as you three seem to have taken a leading role I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?"

Willow blinked in confusion and knew that Root and Nails felt the same way. Did the man not realise that he was the one in control of the situation. That their safety, _all_ their safety depended on him and that they would do nearly anything to keep it that way.

Unless his demands were so extreme that they would be forced to try and warg his beast away.

"Ask" she heard Root reply.

"First is armour and weapons. I've already given a few some daggers but if it's not too much of an issue I can give you all steel feathers like my own."

"No" Willow responded, "We will not wake covered in iron like little men. It is one thing to die and another to be separated from the Gods."

"But-" Root began only to be stopped by her glare.

"Metal will not help us here. Maybe if we were fighting other men I would make an allowance, but against this foe fire, magic, tooth and claw will be the better weapon."

She glared at him for a moment and relaxed when she saw him nod his head, "Fair enough, but we may need, in the near future to stand up against men and if we find ourselves in such a situation I'd rather you were all protected." _Strange_ , she thought of how readily he called them 'we'.

"If such a time comes" she replied, "and we are somewhere safe, unlike here we will speak then. Though I hope that it never does." He nodded in agreement.

I've burnt the webs that I could find with some ember. Doesn't take much form them light up. Turns out there were corpses of giants inside. Giants and spider eggs. Probably corpses for the young to feed on." He paused, "I know that you couldn't tell me much before but what do you know about the area?"

"Very little," Root replied, "Our hunts have never gone this far, we never needed to."

"And it's not going well" Nails whispered. "Everyone's worried or scared and I'm surprised that we've managed to hold up with the place." For a moment they were all silent as they took in the subdued atmosphere around them, the only sign of joy was the sound of some of the young playing with one another. Even the beasts were skittish from the smell of blood that had not completely vanished.

"Is there anything that we can do?" he asked.

"We need to find a home and return to our lives," Willow sighed knowing that no matter what this place would never be their home and despite how much she waned to go back to their old one they were too far forward now.

"No," Nails responded, "it's… we're in mourning."

"Mourning?" the man asked.

"In the battle our Elder died." she explained to him. "Many relied on him for guidance and now that he's not here we don't know what to do. We had to leave so quickly we… many didn't even have time to mourn."

Willow looked in shock at Nails as did Root, listening to her speak of the Elder in a way that some could even call kind. Is this all they had to do to bring down her wrath?

"What can we do?" he asked.

"Live" Willow replied.

"Sing for him," Nails countered.

"Do you have any songs?" The man asked and the three of them looked at one another unsurely.

"No" Willow confirmed, "we have never had… The Elder said that the other Singers spoke only of their loss, but that he didn't want sorrow to be our song. He would not want us to sing for him. And these are dark times."

"So," he replied. "You have no songs, for dark days."

"Yes," Willow confirmed.

For a moment the man sat, a curious look on his face. "You are nothing like I expected you to be."

"What did you expect us to be?" Willow asked.

"Less… _martial_. You're more Hobbit, less Aztec."

"More what?" Willow asked but was stopped by a grinding noise come from behind them.

All sounds in the wooden hall stopped by another thump.

Then a large thud hit the walls outside, echoing in the hall.

Nails looked over to the doorway before them. The hole that was boarded up by a wall of boulders that the humans creature had bought up after turning into a creature of stone.

A deep roar was heard outside that shook them all to their very core.

"Someone's moving the stones." Root whispered.

"Spiders." she heard one of the young whisper.

"No, why? It would be easier to go through the walls." Willow replied.

"We have to get ready to fight," Root insisted. Nails took the time to look at the human as his eyes darted around the large hall. At all the tribe within it.

His creature turned into a sort of large brown scaled mouse. That lay low on the ground as if listening to the earth.

Then he looked back at her and said, "I got a plan."

The mouse began digging into the earth with its sharp claws, quickly making a small tunnel for itself.

"The young and those who can't fight in the back." the human shouted, pointing at where he wanted them to go. "Wolf riders to the sides, either edge of the door. Everyone else who can fight in front of the kids with a wall of spears. We let them come in and attack from all sides."

For a moment they all stood still. "Move!" he roared as the stones at the top crumbled away. Put out the fires, and be quiet."and with that they all scurried to their places.

* * *

Sandslash dug through the earth beneath the hall where its human part was setting up the tribe.

The plan would be twofold. The Children would hold the line whilst the Pokémon would scout from behind and attack if needed. Worst case scenario. The tunnel would be an escape route.

It was his first time as a Sandslash and had the situation not been as urgent he would have marvelled at how it dug its way through the earth, carving through it with a speed that equalled a normal persons walking speed.

But as he continued forth he though of what Pokémon to use in this situation apart from the fallback option of Arcanine and Charizard. Steel was good against the spiders poison, but fire was good against anything that would come up here Beyond the Wall.

Ghost was not chosen for the risk, given how the Others could control the dead. Dark wouldn't hurt unless the wights were going to use fists in which case it would put him at a disadvantage.

The ground parted before Sandslash's claws as it found itself under a cloudless sky, a small layer of snow covering the ground from a storm that must have passed not too long ago.

Everything was silent as Sandslash slowly propped its body outside of the hole and turned to look towards the hallway where several large figures were pounding at the walls or lifting the boulders on what seemed a rush.

Then from nowhere came a stinging pain in the chest. Sandslash looked down to find a dark stinger coming out of its side, blood running out of the wound.

He fell onto the ground, paralysed by the sensation of its blood turning as cold as ice. Silently, more and more spiders fell from the trees and began wrapping it in silk. The snow underneath began to ripple as their bodies that had remained hidden burst out.

In the back of its mind it knew that it's human counterpart had collapsed unconscious from the pain.

Now wrapped completely in a cocoon the spiders began to pull the webs up into the branches and as they did so, he saw a figure outlined in the moonlight. Pale blue light glistening from its eyes.

Sandslash saw it come closer, and felt foolish for being so weak as to be captured by these bugs.

No. He thought to himself. This would not happen.

Then another sting came to his side and ice ran through the veins of Sandslash again.

He was supposed to be resistant to poison. Was he so weak that it would still effect him this much.

* * *

With the fires inside the hall extinguished the only light within was that of the golden eyes of the Children of the Forest as more and more moonlight began to stream through the ever widening opening.

Then came a guttural roar in a strange tongue and the rest of the rock began to shift as one.

"Stay calm" the Root shouted to no avail, his eyes wide, glancing at the riders on either flank. "Riders, only charge after they're inside and our group has done our bit." He had tried to take the role of leading the troops after the human had collapsed but it seemed none were content to listen to him.

"Riders, stay where you are," he carried on, speaking to a deaf audience, "only attack when they are inside. If any of you have any of those exploding stones. Don't use them." He didn't think that they had any left after their last battle. The Apprentices definitely didn't have any time to work their magic's on the trek here.

But before he could continue on his train of though the stones before the door crumbled. A river of moonlight streamed where before there were only small streaks. They looked to the starry sky beyond, silhouetted by tall trees.

He couldn't hear anything. No one, not even the very young dared to take a single breath.

He heard noises outside, like trees falling or stones grinding against stones. Like speech. Then a series of thuds, like footsteps.

The stars were blocked by a gigantic moving silhouette, then another. Giants.

He gripped her sling as they moved inside. The large logs in their arms that they held like clubs blocking out the sky.

They shuffled in cautiously. Two more to make four then six. His heart pounded in fear, could they even take down one on their own?

"No" he heard the human grumble as he shifted back up to his feet. "No," he said before his speech changed to a language Root had never heard before in his life.

The Giant's silhouettes stopped.

* * *

Sandslash's eyes opened.

 _NO_. It said to itself. It would not accept defeat.

A white light engulfed him and from inside the cocoon Arcanine burst out, flames dripping from its mouth.

The forest stilled as the creature inhaled and screamed "AAAARRRRCCAANINEEE" and launched a stream of bright orange fire all around him.

He leapt forward and ripped off the head of a burning spider before him.

* * *

The hall fell silent at the noise outside and the glow of fire. Then the forest was filled with a loud screech, deafening them for a moment to all else.

* * *

Arcanine looked forward to the blue eyes in the distant as a cold wind blew and put out its flames. From the corners of its eyes it saw spiders burst out of pods high up in the trees, pods that were missed from burning earlier in the day from how high up they were. Then thuds as corpses fell from a great height only to rise again with bright blue eyes.

* * *

Inside the cave Root noticed something, "The giant's" he said, "their eyes aren't blue."

But in their eyes he saw the fear and panic that also ran through him. The giants ran into the hall in a frenzy.

A slinger threw a stone and using a large tree trunk a giant threw three onto a wall with a roar.

In the moonlight, it was chaos and the smell of blood.


	7. Chapter 7 - Amongst Ashes

_Chapter 7 – Amongst Ashes._

Nails ran up to Root's direwolf and leapt onto its back, shouting, "Get out of here NOW!"

He snapped into focus and willed his pack forward, weaving through the giants as they flailed, smashing members of the tribe against the walls.

"Get outside!" she shouted to the others who followed, or were crushed under the sheer weight of the frenzied giants.

Nails and Root weaved through the mess of bodies and made their way out only to find themselves running away from the doorway and from the few other giants who continued to force their way inside.

The roars of giants and screams of their tribe echoed throughout the clearing as few more made their way out despite the odds.

Then they heard a large cracking sound come from the hall. Then more, like the breaking of trees during a heavy storm.

They turned around just as the wooden walls collapsed in on themselves and buried all those who were inside.

Nails caught the red hair of Willow who was being dragged by a pair of her apprentices. Injured but not dead.

She looked around at the scene of chaos, less than half managed to get out from what she could see.

A pair of giants that had not made their way into the hall before its collapse knelt before the hall and roared in anguish. Nails didn't pay them much attention.

"Get up!" she heard Root say to members of the tribe that lay in shock on the ground. "Get up! We have to keep moving!"

"Where's the human!" she screamed at him.

"I think he was still inside!" he shouted back after a quick look around. "If he was then he's dead!"

For a moment Nails panicked, looking around. Nails felt the world grow darker. What would they do now?

She saw movement from the corner of her eye and looked up towards the tree line where several large figures stood.

Giants.

She saw them standing as Root tried to organise what was left of the tribe.

She saw their bright blue eyes. Waiting. Watching.

She looked around and noticed smaller figures hidden amongst the trees.

Spiders.

They had to run. There was no beating this foe, not here, not like this.

She looked around and saw strands of web across the trees reflect off the moonlight all around them.

They were trapped.

* * *

Arcanine stood amongst the flames, spiders in the branches around him, the blue eyes of the Other before him.

 _Other_ was the only way that he could describe him. This was no wrinkled ice creature from the show but something fundamentally more. Blue eyes on a beautiful, ice blue body. Stern and sculpted as if from a statue, moving forward with supernatural grace.

The fires slowly died down and Arcanine felt the pain of the poison flowing through them.

He used transform and turned into a Lucario eliminating the poison, only to open his eyes to see a sword made of ice swipe towards his face.

He dodged, instincts that weren't his own assaulted his mind as he flew back from continued precise, unyielding strikes of the Other.

The fires that he had made as Arcanine were gone and the surroundings illuminated by moonlight and the light of the Other.

Lucario realised that had to put more distance between him and his enemies to give him a chance to transform and use a Pokémon form he was more familiar with.

A flash of pain tore through his mind as he saw the Giant's hall collapse from the eyes of his human half and bury his human half. In that moment the Other slashed his sword across Lucario's chest forcing him back a little.

Blood trickled down the cut. He felt his bones chill from the strike.

He dodged another strike from the unyielding Other by leaping back with a speed that put several feet between him and his ever advancing enemy.

He needed a new tactic. His human body was knocked out and perhaps dead. Though he hoped not.

A realisation passed through him. All these dodges, was he using Detect? He waited as the Other walked forward at its firm pace before feeling the path of the blade before the Other had even begun to strike, then evading the attack with a grace he never remembered having before.

He couldn't use this forever as he remembered it became less and less effective.

The Other launched into a stab and Lucario leapt back once more, only to find himself suspended in mid air.

He looked around to find himself stuck in a very large spider web. He turned to the Other, walking calmly forwards. The strikes, all were carefully planned whilst his minions moved around behind him. It was all a trap.

He had been reacting to all that was happening all around him and been manipulated all along.

The White Walker drew back its sword with an emotionless face and stabbed Lucario through the chest with his sword of ice, though the blade did not pierce all the way through.

Lucario coughed blood then grinned back at the Other with his shape teeth.

The sword flew out of Lucario and struck the other in the chest, throwing him back and onto the ground.

The move Counter returned twice the damage that was taken.

When the being of ice stood up once more it found itself looking into the face of a Charizard with flames in its mouth ready to launch them at him.

Then before the flames were let loose, creatures flew out from the trees and attached themselves to the dragon making it roar in pain.

Ice spiders.

The Other moved forward to strike the dragon down but was stopped when it launched into the air with a burst of its wings.

As it shot up into the sky Charizard blew flames out of its mouth and began to spin, covering itself in an aura of fire that incinerated the spiders that had gripped onto it.

Then it stopped and the Dragon began to fall, it's wings extended and it flew by the Other, launching a Flamethrower below, igniting the forest in an inferno with the Other in its midst.

* * *

Root watched as the Giants ran towards them, wielding their clubs made of tree trunks, each one of their steps shaking the ground beneath him.

He urged his direwolf away from them as the remainder of his warged pack lifted up members of the tribe that had no mount.

He heard the crunch of bone as the Giant's smashed through the tribe, eventually converging on the living Giants that had not managed to get in the hall and began to smash them with their clubs over and over again.

He heard a screeching come from the tree line and saw a wave of spiders advance towards them. In the sky behind them a flaming star fell down to the earth.

He wondered if that was the man's creature for a moment before returning to the mater at hand. Nails was sat behind him, throwing stones at the insects to little effect.

He saw Willows hair in the moonlight and the forms of their tribe that had gathered around her. He quickly made his way to them.

The undead Giants stopped in their assault as those that were slain rose once more with blue eyes. The spiders stopped their advance a distance away from the tribe, and soon the giants joined them.

A tense silence fell over the clearing as the two sides stood facing one another.

"Why are they waiting?" he asked, to receive silence from the tribe around him as the forest behind him.

"A trap" came the answer from Nails behind him. "We have to run, get out of here."

"Where to?" was his scathing reply. "We're surrounded."

"Anywhere, we can't stay trapped. We'll die." He then noticed their child wrapped up in a pouch on her chest.

"We'll be sacrificing the tribe," he responded. "Who knows how many spiders are in the forest."

"But we'll at least have a chance," was her reply. He had to admit that it was tempting. His child would have a chance to live, something better than nothing.

Then he looked at the tribe around them. These were faces he had always known. They raised him, helped and mocked him. Made him into who he was now.

What would he be if he betrayed them?

"We can't betray the tribe," he said calmly, looking Nails in the eye. He saw her face turn into one of fury before they were interrupted.

"Good to hear," Willow said from their side. "I realised it was a trap as well. But not for us, for the humans creature, hopefully, it will return in search of its master." They looked at the lengthening shadows behind them as the forest began to catch fire. "If the Others were to take control of it. I shudder to think. Now, the human is surely dead and our role is clear, the Gods meant for us to warg it and defeat the enemy, so we will wait and I will warg the beast."

Root wondered how she wished to do so, he couldn't recall Willow ever being skilled in warging other than to find an occasional mount to gather herbs.

"You do it," he heard Nails whisper to him. "If it's her, we'll all die. She doesn't have the skill, you do."

Before he could say anything more the dragon, a bright flaming streak in the sky shot out from the tree line.

It sprayed fire onto the hordes of spiders and giants on the ground who stood still and let themselves be burnt.

Then he saw the creature stumble in mid-flight.

He looked at Willow who was as surprised as he was.

Then they noticed the wooden remnants of the Giants hall move and shift.

From the ruins rose the Giants that had killed many in their frenzy, but now with blue eyes. Then beneath them they saw the figures of their tribe, all of whom had fallen, but now resurrected under the power of the Other. His will eyes, now theirs.

Then came the figure of the human, his neck twisted at an odd angle, his eyes just like that of the Other that stood behind him.

Root looked as the humans body raised its arm to the beast and it stumbled once more. What was happening was clear, the Other was controlling the human, then using his abilities to warg the dragon whilst it was still alive.

He saw Willow attempt to warg the creature and combat the efforts of the undead. He saw the remnants of the undead horde rush forward in a frenzy to strike them down their tribe who fell by the dozen.

Root heard his child weep behind him and linked his mind with the dragons, immediately lighting all his senses on fire as he, the dragon, Willow and the Other battled for dominance.

He felt the dagger slip out of his belt.

He heard Willow cry and saw Nails with a bloody knife in her hands.

He saw Willow crying tears of blood and knew that he was crying them as well. Felt a wound appear on his chest just like that on hers.

He felt his link with the creature break.

Heard the screams of his tribe, his family and knew that he had failed in his duty.

Everything was cold.

A rock flew and struck Nails on the head. She fell and he saw one of his sister's fellow slingers had been raised as a wight and had been the one to strike her down.

Willow was on the ground.

His sons eyes were blue.

* * *

I crashed onto the ground. In the distance I saw my human body with blue eyes, armoured in polar bear fur and the steel feathers I shed as a Skarmory. Brought back as a corpse by the White Walker that stood behind him. One that I thought I had killed in the fire.

The tunnel that I dug to get outside was the answer. One that I hadn't closed. One that it had used to escape the inferno it was trapped in to get to MY body.

I felt an assault on my mind as the connection that I had with my human body reawoke and for a moment it was as if I was the corpse, it was my body as much as Mew's was and my place was to do as commanded by the Other.

Then I felt another presence grab a hold of my mind, and then another, ripping it, and dragging it down into the earth to be swallowed whole.

I felt the fire engulfing the forest. Everything was burning, everything was dying.

I saw a face carved in a tree. It was mine. It cried tears of blood and whispered something incomprehensible before the feeling of being dragged into the earth left me only to be faced by the feeling of ice under my scales.

Oh yeah, I was a Charizard.

No, wait. I was a human. No wait, my human body was dead. I am a Mew.

I felt a hand of ice grip my very soul and knew I had to act quickly before my will was buried in ice again.

I thought of the life that was lost.

I imagined a tower burning in the distance, it was a figment of my imagination.

I tasted ash; I used Transform.

* * *

Willow watched as the dragon was wreathed in a bright white light and began to rise into the air.

The light shone gold and then with all the colours of the rainbow as it receded. The creature turned into a large bird emerged from it with feathers of gold and red, eyes filled with a fury that shook her to her core.

She looked closely at the bird and saw its shadow stretch endlessly into the night sky. The creatures wings extended beyond the confines of its body. Night turned to day, and the sky _screamed_.

[THIS LIGHT MY ETERNAL SKY]

She saw her tribe all around her, the Giants and the spiders, dead and alive look up in awe.

[HERE I DECLARE IN MY NAME]

She hear speech but understood none of it.

[THIS VESSEL SHALL PAY THE PRICE]

Everyone screamed and on her tongue she tasted ash.

[IN MY NAME EVERLASTING]

It felt like she was dying.

 **[[[LIVE]]]**

* * *

I looked at the Other standing a little away from me. Mew perched on my shoulder and gave him a smile.

He stood still with the same look carved into his face as when I fought him in battle.

"I think" I began, "It would be a good idea for you to leave." I did not know if he understood me. If I am honest I don't know all that much about them beyond what was revealed to all others but I knew, deep in my bones that I had to pay the price for calling up Ho-oh, it was seared in my soul. I had to do all I could to preserve life. Even that of my foes, till the debt was paid.

He could try to stab me, but I was glad that Mew was besides me to stop any attempt with a quick use of psychic. Though watching what was effectively a mass resurrection of all the dead bodies in the nearby area may have been a shock to the system. Assuming that they could feel anything like shock. These were nothing like the ice based necromancers of the show.

More fey, _alien_ , and when I looked through the eyes of Ho-Oh I saw, for a moment, a wall of light and a presence old and powerful that saw me.

It was no mistake that the Other was spared from Ho-Oh's flames. I knew now that there were beings at the edges of this world of great and terrible power. I felt that this display of mercy on the Other was enough to protect me from its Gods wrath.

For now at least, till the little God that I had by my side could stand on its own against any enemies that would come.

I heard the skittering of spiders as they made their way to leave. The Other continued to stare at me unceasingly. I found it hard to believe that this being could ever have been human, but Ho-Oh had chosen to let it live and so would I.

The Other grumbled, a sound that was like the grinding of a glacier. I did not know what it said.

It turned around and walked away.

Today there would be no death.

When the Other and his spiders had passed the horizon I looked around at the Children of the Forest and the Giants looking at me with awe.

I tasted ash in my mouth and collapsed.

* * *

Ned Stark looked out to the north where a bright light lit up the sky, as if there was a sunrise.

He looked down to Winterfell that had woken up to gaze at the sight, many making prayers or rushing to the Godswood.

His wife stood by his side and he thanked the Gods when the light died down and the darkness of night returned.

He would need to send ravens to the watch and the other Lords to the north of him, as well as search his lands with some men if the cause of the light was closer by.

But that could be left for tomorrow when the sun was up.

For now he would rouse the guards to watch the walls in case anything came in the night.

His wife asked to go to the Sept but he bid her rest. The keep was safer and the Sept would still be there in the morning.

He hoped.

* * *

Illaro Voloros was a slaver in the mighty city of Volantis. One that had made his way up in the world by being kind to his betters and making friends in the right places.

He believed that slavery was the most noble of professions left in the world for it was the slaves that built the mighty empires of Ghis and Valyria. And the slavers that made this happen to such great effect. It was slaves that worked in the service of R'hllor.

But these were dark days where his trade was disappearing.

His reward for his faith and diligence in duty to keeping the slaves in line? Another ship sunk by Westerosi barbarians and a shrill wife that only spat out daughters and pestered him like the infernal insects of the Basilisk Isles.

He looked at the pedestal above his fireplace and the one treasure that had made marrying the woman worthwhile. A dragon egg. One turned to stone, yes but enough to prove the pedigree of his descendants as at least half pure Valerian. Enough to get them access to the heart of the city.

Then he saw the egg shake.

He walked over to the egg and placed his hand upon it. Where once was only cold stone was now warmth.

Beyond the roof of the world the sky danced with blinding light and at it's heart something watched.

IT saw the shadow of something Divine appear on the world and gaze at HIS chosen.

IT saw it intrude on ITS domain. And gazed back in challenge.

The intruded ceased its Blasphemy. For now there was silence between them.

IT would watch, for a moment and learn. But not forever. Winter was here. As it should be.

* * *

 **Would like to know your thoughts on this chapter.**

This is not a Gamer fic but if it was-

 **Achievement Unlocked: Res Plz**


	8. Chapter 8 - Shoulders of Giants

_Chapter 8 – Shoulders of Giants._

A soft-boiled to help me get back up helped me remember just how amazing a Pokémon Chansey was. But the relief was only replaced by a feeling of exhaustion.

I went over to the tribe where Nails and Willow were being held apart from one another by the rest of their tribe before they ended up killing one another. After waking up from where I collapsed I found the Giants, around twenty of them in total, huddled in their own group away from the Children of the Forest and their menagerie of animals whilst a heated argument went on between Root and Nails.

"Your spawn is an abomination and must be put down!" Willow screeched, whilst being held back from reaching Nails who had several scratch marks on her face.

It turned out that during the battle Willow and Root tried to warg and control Mew. To stop Willow and let Root take control instead, Nails had stabbed Willow, who took offence with that.

"I think you guys should calm down." I said to no effect as the insults continued to fly.

"You would have killed us all, you arrogant shit! You deserve to be taken by the Others!" Nails shouted. I looked at the Giants huddled around a fire in the distance, thank God that I didn't have to deal with any shit like this coming from them. I was still exhausted after what had happened this night and I couldn't have these two ripping each other, and the tribe apart.

"I think that's enough." I said calmly to no effect once more.

"We only got your brother to rut with you because no one else wanted to!" Willow shouted. Nails broke free of the arms holding her and leapt on Willow, scratching her face.

"Enough!" I shouted. Mew threw a burst of psychic energy and disoriented the two. I walked up and ripped Nails off of Willow who now also possessed a bright red scratch on her face.

It took a while for them to calm down, but when it was clear they had I began. "I don't give a shit who did what to who. I just had, what may as well be God appear and revive everyone here. I am tired and don't have the time to deal with any of this right now."

"Never!" Willow screeched, "how do you think that you can speak in the name of the Gods more than anyone else here. We were all blessed with life."

"Because-" I began only to be interrupted.

"She tried to kill me!" Willow shrieked. "We would all be _dead_ if not for the Gods coming! I was ready to take your beast and kill the enemy and she tried to kill _me_!" there was silence for a moment as the tribe placed accusing eyes on Nails. "She would have killed all of us!"

It took a moment but Nails relied in a calm firm voice, "I don't think you've realised Willow but you are not our Elder. You are _not_ one who takes to warging and you would _not_ have succeeded because you are weak. We all heard about how you could not even ride on the beast in the sky; we all realised that you had never taken the skin of a bird. Had you even taken the creatures skin you would have done nothing but died."

"Someone had to try!" she shouted, "we would have died listening to you! We _did_ die listening to you and coming out here! We should have stayed home!"

"We would have died there as well! You don't understand, you are not better than _us_! You are not better than _me_!" Nails shouted.

"I was born better than you!" was her swift response.

"Your only angry because this is your first time in danger. Don't you remember what our Elder always told us? It is our place to give our lives for the tribe. If not for the Gods, tonight would have been your turn to die for the rest of us. Even if to rid the world of your arrogance."

"Do not speak to me about the Elder, do _not_ speak to me as if I know nothing of death. _You_ know nothing! You hateful rat. You died from a rock to the head! You are meant to die, you were taken by the Others! That fate was never to be mine. My fate-" Willow took notice of the tribe surrounding her and stopped whatever she was going to say.

I remembered the first time I met the Children of the Forest, when Willow was calm in the face of what the tribe should do after the initial attack and Nails, frantic to get everyone out of their hole in the ground lest they all be killed when the next attack did come.

"And you!" Willow said looking at me. "Do you think yourself so blessed human? So mighty to hold a creature of songs, to tell us what we should do! You nearly killed us all because you were too weak to defend us like you said!"

I wanted to reply like Nails had done and silence Willow's argument but couldn't help but admit to myself that she was right. Yes, my failures did end up with a result that was better than one I could have ever hoped for. With even the dead Giants coming back to life but had divine intervention not occurred, my arrogance may have condemned the world. Especially if the Others had taken control of Mew like they had nearly done.

"You're right," I admitted and looked around at the faces of the tribe staring back at me with their gold and green eyes in the moonlight. "There was a lot that I could have done better, a lot that could have been done better."

"Then just give me your beast!" she shouted and I chose to ignore her as did the rest of the crowd. It was then that I realised that I had forgotten the lessons of the past. I remember it being said that a debate wasn't about trying to persuade the person you were arguing against, but about all the others around you. I remembered the one person that originally set forth the idea of warging Mew and that even if I killed Willow for trying to possess me there would be a line of those who would take her place.

"What you're wrong about," I said, "is that your efforts would have ever managed to do anything. If you decided to stay at your home you would have died." I looked at several members of the crowd in the eye. "If any of you doubt that, talk to the Giants by their fire. If any of you could have foreseen what happened tonight please tell me _why_ you didn't say anything before, because that, _that_ would have been helpful. Aren't your species all supposed to have dreams that see into the future or not!"

"The Green Dreams do not work like that!" one of other 'apprentices' said, though without their Elder to apprentice to they weren't really apprentices anymore.

"Willow's been talking a lot about the Gods," I carried on, "and maybe they sent me in your direction. But they did not make me land. They did not make me fight your enemies. They did not make me stay with you. I chose that, then. I chose that tonight. I died for that with all of you. If there is another attack like this then maybe I will die again and I don't know if I'll come back to life with my eyes or the Others but if I do die it's because I choose to do it protecting you." I paused for a moment and noticed that the crowd was less hostile now, than it was when I began to speak.

I looked over at Willows still seething face. Two red lines ran down her cheeks, as if she had been crying blood. I looked over at the smug grin on Nails face and knew that if I didn't do something big these two would murder each other whilst we all slept.

"I don't approve of Nails trying to murder you," I told Willow, "but if she hadn't stabbed you, I would not have been able to… call for aid for the Gods, so to speak. I don't rule over any of you but I would suggest that you don't punish the one that saved you all." I saw Nails grin widely.

"But Willow, I understand that you are worried. If you want, you can follow me wherever I go to make sure I don't make any more mistakes. Answer any questions and protect Mew any anyone tries to warg or take over it." She looked at me sceptically. It wasn't much of an offer admittedly but it was the best I could come up with. I was going to offer her first dibs on warging Mew if anything happened to me again, though as a lie, but I couldn't even bring myself to lie about the idea.

Willow didn't move for a while and I noticed the rest of the tribe looking at her with bated breath. I wondered for a moment if it would be easier to kill her and get rid of someone that may cause me a lot of trouble in the future. But I couldn't.

Mew who was sitting on my shoulder transformed into a Talonflame and spread out its wings. It wasn't Ho-Oh but I could see recognition light up in the faces of the tribe.

Willow looked at the bird, then at the rest of her tribe looking at it in awe. She nodded. I let out a sigh of relief. "Alright," I said. "We'll have a guard set up and sleep for the night. Willow, we'll go with-" I noticed Root sitting apart from the group looking depressed, "We'll go to the Giants and say hello."

I'll deal with Root later. Though my traditional way of helping is limited to 'get over it' and 'tell me what wrong then get over it'. Not sure how much it would help with what may be PTSD after what happened.

Willow and I began to walk away from the Tribe as a few of the Children set themselves in the shadows of the trees to begin a watch and the rest began to dig into the ground alongside their warged mounts to sleep in small dark holes in the ground, away from the moonlight.

We walked over to the edge of the Giants camp and waited for them to greet us. They stirred and looked curiously at Talonflame on my shoulder but made no move to do anything, till eventually one stood up and came over to greet us.

He was tall, or at least I presume he was a he. Nothing like the Giants I knew from the show.

He was twice as tall as I was. A thick pelt of fur covered him, white as snow. If anything, he reminded me more of the stories of Bigfoot than anything else. If not for the gleam of intelligence in his eyes I would have mistaken him for a animal.

It took a moment but I soon realised that he was not going to be the one to initiate conversation. So I decided make the first move.

"You alright?" I asked in the old tongue, using what I had managed to skim from their surface thoughts with Mew's psychic powers.

"Yes" he replied in the old tongue.

"Need help?" I motioned to his tribe behind him.

"No" was the simple response.

"We will talk again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." He echoed. "Where you going to?" He asked and it took me a moment to realise that he was asking about our overall destination.

"South, to the Wall" I replied.

"We follow" he said.

"Why?" I asked, though I suspect the mass resurrection had something to do with it.

"Safety," was his answer. I sighed and looked at the group of Giants and felt apprehension at the troubles that they would cause.

"Do you have a lot of food?"

"No" was his response.

I looked over to Willow, "do we have any?"

"Have any what?" She replied. "I didn't understand any of that!"

"Giant's speak in the Old Tongue," I explained and wondered about just how much conflict an inability to communicate would cause the two groups following me. "Do we have any food left over from the attack?"

She sighed. "Maybe, we'll have to dig out the ruins to see if anything survived, but I doubt it."

I looked over to the Giant and decided to leave the issue of possible starvation for tomorrow morning.

"You have a name?" I asked

"Han Gar Run Gen" He said and I made a note to call him Han Gar in the future.

"Alright, I'm tired" I whispered to myself in English. I looked over to Han Gar. "Going to sleep, see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, Tired." He echoed. I nodded and walked off. As late as it was the, conversation was pleasantly short and simple and if they were all like Han Gar, I had a feeling that they would be a pleasant group to be around. With none of the drama I get from the Children of the Forest.

"Well," Willow said to my side.

"Well what?" I replied.

"What did you speak about! Did the beasts threaten to eat us!"

"No," I explained, "they said they'll follow us south."

"What! Why!"

"Safety in numbers," I answered.

"No, why did you say yes!"

"Don't worry about it," I said picking a tree to sleep on, laying my back on it and closing my eyes. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"It _is_ tomorrow!" she said and I opened my eyes to see the sky brightening in the distance.

No. I said to myself. "Still going to sleep. We'll talk when I wake up."

* * *

 **Oh, I am the last of the Giants**


	9. Chapter 9 - Nestled in Fur

_Chapter 9 – Nestled in Fur._

He watched as the human rode upon his beast with the white furred giant on one side and Willow on her direwolf mount on the other. It had been some days since the Giants had joined their party on their march south but in all those days there had been little contact between them and the Children of the Forest.

Not out of any malice as Hidden Path had noticed along with many of his kin that the Giants were a peaceful lot. It was just that many could not forget the image of a Giant's fist or club heading their way before they died. The only real point of contact they had was the human who seemed to have made a bond with the white-grey haired giant. Something a few members of the tribe feared as Willow clearly could not match the strength of the bond and the human was their source of security.

He followed the three of them quietly, slowly putting his thoughts together for what he had to say. Things had been a joke ever since the Elder died and the three little shits had somehow found themselves at the top of the tree. Willow who had only begun her lessons with the Elder, Root who was only allowed to become a hunter because he had the skill to warg a decent pack and Nails who was born a bitch to all but her brother and then to him as well when he lay with her.

It was as if the human had attached himself to the loudest idiots that made themselves known and talked only to them. Then the same shits take Hidden Path's own idea of warging the beast and use it at the worst time, fools.

Hidden Path stroked the fur of his direwolf and urged it forward. The trick with warging was to work with the animal and to guide it. There were those that forced the bond and were unable to do much more than control one being, but he or the other riders quickly taught them better. To control too much did not work and neither did controlling too little. Hoping for the best like the human did with the tribe left only chaos. The Elder had it right, a gentle touch was best, with the occasional slap and banishment.

"Human," he said squeezing between him and Willow who sent him a scathing look.

"Leave, Hidden Path," she said.

"No," he responded before looking back at the human. "I have a question for you if you're not too busy riding your beast to answer."

"Go on," the human replied, looking down on him with a strange expression.

"Do you know who I am?"

The human said nothing and Hidden Path noticed the firewolf he rode look at him curiously. "I can't say I do."

"Try to remember."

"He's Hidden Path. He wanted to kill you when we first met," Willow interjected.

The human stared at him for a moment, his hand gripping the short sword sheathed on his hip. "Nice to know. Anything you want?"

"Yes," he continued. Trust the fool of a girl to act so. "When are you going to take your job seriously."

"Haven't we talked about this?" the human asked. He looked exhausted with the question.

"No," Hidden Path replied, "I'm not talking about the night when _they_ came for us. I'm talking about right now. You have every right to run from us. Fly on your beast to the south. It's what I'd do. But you don't, you've said some things about why and I don't really care about that. But that makes you our Elder now. You have to step up in your role in guiding us."

Willow and the human looked at him in silence for a moment. "I'm not," he began to say before Hidden Path continued.

"It's been two days since the Gods chose your beast to revive us and you are in charge of your beast. Tell us, what do you want us to do?"

"I'm not your Elder." The human said whilst Willow punched Hidden Path in the side and whispered insults at him.

"No," he replied, ignoring Willow. "He was much better than you. But you are the one in charge right now and we need orders."

"We're going south, that's it."

"We're also moving at the pace of the Giants. We could forage for food instead of slowly starve. Set up camps in advance of the Giants so that we can rest by the time the Giants reach us. Send some scouts at least."

"Aren't you doing that already," the human asked.

"Not since we're all scared of what could be in the woods," came his reply. "I'm sacred too but what we're doing now? We're moving too slowly. Someone has to sort something out because Willow's a shit that no one wants to talk to," she punched him again, "Nails is a shrieking shit that gave birth to an abomination and Root is a cowardly shit that hasn't gotten over what happened two days ago."

"He died."

" _He_ didn't, but I did. You don't see me being a shit about it," came the quick reply. "Heck, he forgot to sleep out of moonlight, Nails had to smack some sense into him. The problem is that you talk with no one but these three shits."

"I thought you wanted to kill me?"

"That was in the past and by the stories given by the Elder I had every right to want you dead. You're human and you were going to kill us all. Then we all died and now you are the Elder, at least that's the way I see it, there's no need to want you dead anymore."

"Don't listen to him" Willow interjected. "You'll be better off doing the opposite of what this fool says."

"He's talking sense," the human sighed and then looked at Hidden Path in the eye. "but, I'm not looking to make you my people."

"Until someone finds out that they have a brain, we are your people." The human had a look of frustration on his face. "I am Hidden Path and I am the best hunter here, because I see problems and I make answers. I said that we should kill you or die and we died, now I'm saying that you have to get everyone in order or we'll all die… again."

"Can't you do it?" the human asked, he looked frustrated.

"No," he replied. "I hunt and say what needs to be said just like how Nails throws rocks and hasn't been a bad den mother for the tribe since she ripped Willow's face apart."

"Go and fuck your face Hidden Piss-stain." Willow snapped then looked at the human. "I can do it," Willow said; it was only the recent argument and the reaction from the tribe that had stopped her from claiming the title of Elder herself.

"All you're good for is telling stories, handling the bloodletting and slapping a poultice on a wound- which you don't need to do anymore with the pink- egg healer."

"Chansey," the human murmured.

"Besides how is our 'clever' leader ever going to learn to lead? Or be clever? He's got one thing he said he'd do. Lead us to safety wherever that would be and he can only do that by leading us."

"I don't remember saying it like that," the human mumbled.

"And all he has to do is train that creature of his like he's been doing"

"Mew," the human interrupted. " _Its_ name is Mew."

"And if you talked to us a little more we would stop calling it 'creature'. But you have to do that _and_ keep the tribe in check. You can't do that if you spend all day doing nothing but ride slowly."

"We got Willow to agree to tell us some stories tonight," the human said with a sigh. "And I'll admit, Willow might have a point. Your argument started out good but ended up in a mess. You sound like you're the sort of person that talks a lot of shit." He frowned, "but it doesn't mean you don't have good points." He then looked to his side and up and Hidden Path followed his eyes to see the Giant.

"Grun gar hev," the Giant said. It was unnerving just how the creature had blended into the background.

"Gre kak res," the human responded and looked at him and Willow. "Your name was Hidden Path? This is Han Gar. Han Gar, kot tek Hidden Path des tro," he said to the Giant then turned back to Hidden Path. "Keep him entertained or he'll grind your bones to make bread." The humans firewolf transformed into a black and white striped horse and rode away to the rest of the tribe, Willow tailing behind him.

Hidden Path looked up at the giant and tried not to think of that night two days ago. It was true that even after death they would all return to the Roots of the world, to be one with their Gods. But the thought of doing it so soon was terrifying.

"You don't know anything about what I'm saying do you?" he asked the Giant.

"Krak arg wak," was the response.

"Thought so. Forgot to get him to check up on the boy. Boy's a shit but deserves better than his shrew of a sister. Ha! I forgot. I still didn't manage to get the human's name from him." Hidden Path looked up to the Giant. "You wouldn't know, would you?"

The Giant didn't reply.

"You're just a two legged bear aren't you?, slow in the head as the stories say." He pointed to himself and repeated his name "Hidden Path", pointed to the Giant and said "Han Gar," then pointed to the human trying to see if the Giant knew their protectors name.

It took a few more tries before the Giant understood his question. "Toh Red," was his answer.

"Strange name," Hidden Path murmured. "Let's see if we can train a bear," he pointed to a tree, " _tree_."

* * *

Bolor crouched behind a tree, the four others of his hunting party hidden in other positions. He and his party had left Rockhill a day ago on this hunting mission. A small village with a handful of men and women but not so different to the others that littered the forest north of The Wall.

But of all the things he had seen in all his time hunting, the man and creature besides him was not one of them. The man wore strange clothing underneath a snow bear cloak, the creature besides him had the shape of a woman but was so different in appearance that it couldn't be called such. It had green hair and a pale white inhuman face as well as what seemed to be a red horn piercing through her chest and what may have been clothing in the form of a white strip of fabric.

He and the rest of his party remained in their positions, watching the two as they stood doing nothing. Possibly waiting for someone? He hoped it wasn't them.

Originally Bolor wanted to watch to see if anything happened and trace to two but now it was clear that nothing was. He had the option of shooting them with arrows, they didn't look armoured. Alternatively, he could have captured them. As inhuman as the creature was there were many that would have use for it it if it had a warm hole. Talking was out of the question, such things rarely ever went well when two groups met in the wood, and he was not one to tempt fate.

But he didn't get to where he was by being a fool. Some of their group had young back at their homes. It would not do for them to never see their parents again.

He made his decision, Arlaf could use his hand tonight. He motioned to his group to pull away and leave. Gradually they moved away from the two until a voice rang out, "wait!" The group paused and looked back at the pair.

"I just wanted to say-" they realised that the voice that they were hearing was not being spoken out loud but was being echoed inside of their heads. _Skinchanger_ , Bolor thought and shot two arrows at them as a reflex along with more from his companions.

The arrows stopped in mid-air before the pair, surrounded in a light blue glow. More arrows were let loose only to meet the same fate. The arrows floating in mid-air were released from their grip and fell to the earth.

"Sorry about that," the voice in their heads spoke, "new body, getting used to it."

They all ran away through the trees as if their life depended on it, weaving through the trunks and looking back to find that they were not being chased.

They did not stop running.

Bolor looked at his fellow hunters for the signs of a human being taken over by a warg. Namely the jerking movements that came with getting used to a new body and the signs of a mind fighting back. Taking a human was near impossible from what he heard from the wargs he had met, but that creature could have been capable of anything. He had never heard of anything like that creature, was it a human? A monster?

Then it appeared from thin air a distance before them. Svanna let loose an arrow out of reflex only to have it stop in mid-air like all the others before it.

"Teleport is amazing," the creature spoke in their heads. Arlaf raised his spear and charged the creature with a battle cry only to be pushed back by an invisible force.

"Grab Arlaf!" Bolor shouted, "run!"

* * *

Han Gar Run Gen was his name In the Great Tongue. He looked down at the human, Toh Red as he stood amongst the trees and stood breathless at how sharp his eyesight had become since that dark night.

"Didn't expect them to run," the human said more to himself then the Giant. "Then again I didn't expect you and the rest of the giants to be so good at hiding big guy." The human stopped for a moment before continuing briefly, "and they won't stop running."

Han Gar continued to look down at the human as a short silence established itself.

Toh Red sighed, "you're right I should stop this joke and get them to talk. Let's try to use Butterfree, it's a new form. they shouldn't see it in the air and I haven't used Stun Spore before." He grinned and said something in the language of the squirrel people.

From where they were hidden behind the trees the squirrel people revealed themselves and their mounts and began to march forward to where the men had run off to.

The human walked at a leisurely pace whilst Han Gar Run Gen thought of the place he now found himself in. Toh Red was young and so were the squirrel people, all of the eager to reach answers and swiftly move forward, scared of the future. Unknowing that the answers that they needed answered already lay within them, all they needed to do was wait for a moment and let the answers come to them.

Han Gar began to march forward. The heavy thump of his feet on the ground the first sound he had made in some time. He felt his fur shift as the young family of birds that had made nest in it cried to their mother for food. There used to be a family of mice as well, they ran when the cold came.

He regretted his actions that dark night two days ago but all he did, he did with the intention of preserving his family. It was to his shame that he had failed and had to be saved by the humans' creature.

He lifted Toh Red up and placed him on his shoulder to ride. Given the irritatingly slow speed of the human when he had no mount it seemed best. He saw the red-haired squirrel person approach to ride by his side, he could smell her frustration with the human.

The birds in his fur calmed down but the grip he kept on his club didn't. It would be strange to see the wall the Stone Giants made.

* * *

 **Surprised how much you guys like the Giants but for a while the Children have been facing a crisis of leadership and of purpose. Choosing the loudest option may be the simplest but it isn't always the best... neither is breaking promises.**

Toh Red and Thored are the same name but given the different methods of speech coming from the two species it comes off as different.

 **Happy Easter!**


	10. Chapter 10 - On a Rocky Hill

_Chapter 10 – On a Rocky Hill._

Bolor recalled all that had happened that day with a sense of shock. He was one of the freefolk that lived in the settlement of Rockhill, one of the few scattered in the forest north of the wall.

After they had run from the pale lady, he and his group seemed to have been struck by a strange magic. They found their muscles freezing up and one by one they fell into the ground, unable to move their bodies till _they_ came.

It started with a rumbling of the earth that shook even the trees and sent birds flying away. Then came the howling and the barks of the wolves that seemed to fill the world as he lay paralysed on the ground.

One by one his vision was filled by the sight of the largest pack of direwolves he had ever seen. Atop them were beings that he had only been told of in stories. All around him stood the Children of the Forest. He felt his heart stop for a moment in shock. He looked into their yellow and green eyes, their strange faces and skin more akin to a deer their size only half that of his own.

He panicked, tried to scream and shout and run but his body would not move. What was this? He asked himself. Spirits, ghosts, magics from the pale lady that had chased him?

They tied him up with rope made of vines and dragged him and his group to more Children on top of many different beasts and a small group of giants. On top of one of the giants sat the human that had stood with the pale lady, his grin, vicious.

Then the human spoke to him in their tongue. Bolor couldn't absorb what was being said, as the words themselves had shocked him.

The person wasn't one he had ever met at Rockhill and even the closest of settlements and most regular travellers couldn't speak their language as well as this stranger had. So how could this stranger speak so? Had he been watching them? Had the pale lady stolen the knowledge from their minds?

When he turned his attention back to the stranger, he heard the stranger apologise to them for the surprise and asked where their home was, so that he and his group could have somewhere to stay for the night.

He did not reply, nor did anyone else as whatever magics stiffened their limbs had not lost its effect to the point where they could. Though he hoped that even if they could move, that no other would have been foolish enough to speak of such regardless.

After all, they all knew that their home was all the safer as long as it was hidden from the lone reavers seeking to steal women, though the last time one had tried ended up with Svanna ripping of the fools' cock and leaving his body for the beasts of the night. There was no way that any amount of ripped off cocks would stop this group if they sought to destroy Rockhill.

The man atop the giant said nothing as a flying blue cat dropped out of the sky and onto the giants other shoulder, then gave them all a wave with a stubby arm. The cats eyes glowed blue for a moment.

"Right," the human said and began directing the group to march in the direction of Rockhill.

What did the creature do? Bolor asked himself. Was it a servant of the Others? The stories told of how their servants had that colour of eyes, though the Children were supposed to be their opposite. Weren't they?

Questions rushed through his mind. Bolor wondered what they wanted and as feeling slowly returned to his limbs, he took time to study his captors.

The Children of the Forest talked a lot in their strange tongue. Their language sounded like a choir of birds, like a song without words, like the laughter of the wind as it weaved through the trees. Occasionally a group would leave the main group on their mounts and disappear into the wood, but he would still hear them just outside of his range as if their songs were lifted by the wind itself.

The Giants did not speak much, but what little he did hear was in a language similar to his own though spoken in the broken, simple way that only the very young would speak.

Slowly he felt feeling come back to his limbs and his captors let him and his fellows walk on his own two feet. His arms were tied together tightly in some form of rope and as small as his captors were there was no chance of leaving alive.

He saw the rest of the hunters that came with him look at each other for answers to their situation. The look in their eyes one of panic and fear. He shook his head at them when they turned to him. There was little they could do. Even if they did, would it be worth striking against the Gods? If the Children had the Gods' blessing, and it was likely that they did there would be no standing against them.

He remembered the bright flash of light in the night and knew in his heart it was not a coincidence that his captors came from the same direction.

So they all continued to walk to Rockhill without complaint. they would see what these myths planned for their home and with all those who lived there with him there was a better chance of wounding their foes if they meant to take what was theirs.

If only Arlaf would cease to look at the females with interest every time he forgot to be afraid. The thought was disgusting enough that it made him want to chop off Arlaf's head that very moment.

Eventually they reached the village of Rockhill and like the name suggested it was a village on top of a small hill made of rock. Atop which were several homes made of stone walls and thick wooden roofs.

Bolor looked up to see little Jaramund sitting as a lookout on the roofs shout out a warning at their coming. The settlement came to life as the men and spearwives rushed outside wielding their spears, bows and axes to meet the attackers. Then stop the moment they caught sight of who they faced.

The Children of the Forest melted out from the woods at the foot of the rocky hill that their home was on top of. Bolor felt a sense of awe and dread fill him at the sight of so many beings in one place; each one mounted on direwolves, deer and a number of other creatures. Then the giants stepped out of the trees. The difference in size between them and the Children that crowded beneath them making them seem all the taller.

He had never see so many beings in one place at one time. The sight took his breath away.

The snow furred Giant marched forward, human on one shoulder and blue cat on the other. Behind them a red-haired child of the Forest followed on her direwolf.

He heard the sound of a bow being used and prepared himself to move and attack his captors if they moved to strike his home but they did not move to do anything but wrestle another captive down to the ground as she tried to attack one to the Children besides her.

The giant continued to walk forward, the thump of its feet shaking the homes of Rockhill. He heard the snapping sound of more arrows being loosed but the giant did not stop till it was a few feet away from the stone houses.

The human let himself down and walked up to the people arrayed against him.

They all held their weapons at the ready, some of them screaming at him to fight.

The human continued to calmly walk forward even as they shook their axes and spears at him. The Child of the Forest that had stopped by the giant spurred forward on her wolf and found herself directly behind the human in a snowbear cloak.

The two walked through the line of warriors arrayed before them without once breaking their stride and went over to little Jaramund atop the wall of his home.

He stayed there for a moment, not even caring that the warriors had now arrayed themselves behind him. The warriors themselves ignoring the army of children and giants that they now had their backs to, many with bows and slings ready to strike at their backs.

Jaramund spoke to the human as the direwolf of his companion snapped at any warrior that came too close. The human lifted something that flashed silver in the sunlight and gave it to the young boy. He turned around and walked through the warriors once more without receiving a single scratch or word of protest from them.

He walked down the hill and when he was close enough said something to the Children in their own tongue. Bolor felt a shift in the atmosphere around them as the tension slipped away and his bindings were cut off.

He didn't know what had happened but he was glad that it had not ended up in blood.

There was a time when he used to play in the woods and pretended that he was one of the children. Now that they were here he didn't know if he should react with joy or fear. He had a feeling that the question ran through the minds of the rest of the village.

He already had one home wiped out by crows, losing another to the Children of the Forest as they stepped out of myth may not have been something he could have survived.

Willow sat before her tribe and the Thored near the human settlement and sighed.

Thored was reckless despite the number of precautions he said that he had taken the moment he chose to walk into the jaws of their enemies without regard for his own safety. It was only fortune that there was no blood spilt at all.

Though the younger humans had found themselves able to interact with the tribe by playing catch and other games, their elders were far more cautious. A group of the humans had even watched in awe as Mew levitated and spin a number of stones around itself.

The sun was setting and most of the tribe had already eaten. The new humans that they had met were split on the subject of food, some giving freely and others adamant in hording what little they had. Though Willow admitted that they couldn't stay here for much longer lest they split this village into two. If they decided to come along, she doubted they could all survive, though Thored would not deny them. The fact of the matter was that their food situation was perilous, especially with the giants and wolves eating as much as they did.

She had not had a full meal since the attack.

But that was something she could deal with. They may not respect her at the moment but the tribe was hers to take care of. She would do this without complaint.

She looked to her side where Thored sat. "Do you think this is the best time?"

"Yes," he replied. "I promised that I would listen to you and it would help if I knew more about your people. All I have so far is that you all talk a lot and… well that's about it." She recalled that he said he would listen to her and how that seemed to be worth very little, given that he then went forward to ignore all she said. "Oh and you all like to sleep in little holes in the ground."

"We do that because it is what we must do," she explained. "and you would be best off turning your Mew into a creature that can dig something for us here. I'm not sure we'll be able to dig this rocky soil so easily with our hands."

"I'll do that," the human nodded, "but in the meantime I would still like to know more about your people."

She sighed, "What do you want to know?"

"Start at the beginning."

She looked around at the tribe at peace for the first time since that dark day. The three species sitting mostly separate from one another, but interacting with one another in a way that she had not ever seen before. It was strange, her people were scared of even the whisper of humans not so long ago. Perhaps, she thought they were all too tired from their journey to be scared anymore.

She looked up at the sun's golden rays streaming through the branches. "If you insist." she began, "this is the song of our beginning."

"The Weirwood is our sacred tree," she explained. "Our Heart Tree was the foundation of our home and for countless days it watched over us, nurtured us and remembered us. A Weirwood can last forever, if left untouched. In their roots are the memories of the dawn of our days. Until we see another I may not get everything right, but this is what I remember."

She reminisced of the time when she had begun her training, when she was first told the story. It all seemed a lifetime ago, and now her world was filled with giants and humans and the wild open sky.

"In the dawn of our days this land was covered in one great forest. It was said that the squirrels taught us to climb the trees, that we could live our whole lives in the branches of the forest without ever touching the earth. With branches and vines we made never-ending living bridges and by whispering in one of these branches we could speak with our kin in a far-off land as if they were by our side. When we died, we became one with the forest forever singing its song." She saw the face that was on the Heart Tree of her home, now ash.

"Then from the place of the rising sun, they came. But for a long time they did not see us for we lived high in the branches. But one by one they cut down the trees and after many years the great wood was split. We saw the deer run in the new grassland and made ourselves like them to run in this new world." She thought of Heart Trees being chopped down by bronze axes, of blood and entrails on the white roots.

"As the forest shrank the families once separated grew closer together and made packs. The wood also changed, instead of vines and branches the Weirwood reached out with the roots. and bound the earth as one in the song of the forest."

She noticed that her tribe had come around her to sit and listen. It was a bittersweet feeling, to be listened to once more. If only she hadn't lost their ears in the first place.

"Then the dark days came and the world withered. So, we looked at the badgers and dug into the earth at the base of the Weirwood." She paused for a moment and Thored repeated her words to the humans and giants that had come to the gathering. "It was 'neath the Weirwood we took shelter."

"We saw man in the cold and dug the ground beneath him so that he could also hide from those that would hunt him." She would not tell the humans the part of the story that mentioned the evil of men, of the weapons they wielded in their arms, the hate in their hearts. Not whilst they were guests in the homes of men.

"Then the dark days came to an end and we found ourselves looking at a new world. Where once there were many voices speaking in the branches of the trees, there were now only four Elders to lead our people. The first saw the death of the land and the slaying of the wood from all the beasts that had ravaged it, he grew great treeboats and sailed into the land of the new sun with the hope of a new home where they could rebuild. The second chose to live with men, all her people died when the men of the star came for them and burned down their sacred places. The third saw the end of our people and the rise of a new one and diminished into the Weirwood."

"The last was the Elder of our Elder. He saw not an end but a new beginning. He placed all under his guidance and just as we had learnt from the squirrels to climb and the badgers to dig we learnt from man how to grow and prosper. How to destroy and be reborn."

She closed her eyes and thought of the blood spilt to make that dream come true. She opened her eyes and saw all their eyes looking at her. They were all the same age but she was the only one left with the burden of their tribe, the only one who could guide them on the path that was made for them all those years ago. They could never know, they were too young. Not in body, but in their hearts.

"And so we remember the lessons given to us. Keep with the traditions and act for the good of the tribe. Regardless of the sacrifices made. The story of our past is the story of our future." She stopped

"You have another story?" Thored asked when it was clear that she had finished and she nodded remembering one she was told by her mother when she was young.

"One day a young one came to the Elder and asked for ten arms to shoot five arrows with. So the Elder gave them to him."

"When the young one when to the tribe, they laughed at him so he went back to the Elder and spoke of what had happened. The Elder chopped off all the arms but two and he went back to the tribe who still laughed at him."

"He went back to the Elder who chopped of his remaining arms. When he went back the tribe screamed at him for he could no longer do anything to prepare for the winter." When she finished she looked to Thored who had a strange expression on his face, though none of the others seemed to have it on theirs.

She looked up at the sky, the sun had nearly set. Only time would tell which of the four Elders they had copied when they chose to leave their home. What the future of their tribe would bring.

She looked at the gathering around her and told them to go to sleep. Tomorrow was another day.


	11. Chapter 11 – On Warm Winds

_Chapter 11 – On Warm Winds._

As dawn broke, Mew in the form of Pidgeot flew high up in the air, his human body still sleeping down below.

There was little that felt as liberating as the feeling of flight, the sensation that came as you let yourself float on a pleasant current. To watch the sun as it illuminated the world. All the earthly worries of yesterday seemed so far away.

I, as Pidgeot looked down at the wildling settlement, surrounded by a host far too large for the settlement itself to hold. The Giants fell asleep on any ground they found comfortable enough. The Children in their little burrows away from the open sky.

For a moment I wondered what it would be like if I had not stopped to save them all that night? It, along with my human half would most likely be in the Seven Kingdoms by now. Somewhere warm and safe, having fun discovering new powers and resting in the Water Gardens. They seemed so far away, and all though of reaching home slowly slipping from his mind. Though I admit I would never give up trying to get back home.

I noted the height of the sun and with the sun's light I could already see several figures waking up below, Nails rushing around and waking up her kin and distributing food to those that had little. I angled my wings downwards to begin to descend. It wouldn't do to wonder about what ifs this early in the journey, not when there were so many more regrets to make, not when we had to get going south soon.

I felt an updraft come and for a moment wondered if it would be a good idea to float in the sky for a moment and watch the sunrise… just a little longer.

As my human half woke up my thoughts drifted back to yesterday. It must have appeared to be a gamble to any other but it was not. Not with a psychic cat that could read intent from those surrounding it, a psychic that could stop arrows in mid-air and axes in mid swing, one that could teleport its human counterpart away from harm in an instant.

I could not stay in the sky any longer, not with the risk of my human counterpart getting stabbed from a crazy wildling.

I folded my wings and dove down, opening them up once I had reached close to the ground to slow my fall.

I transformed into Mew, teleported to my human half and took a seat on my shoulder looking at the conversation that I had joined.

"We shall come with you!" the wildling, Bolor said, barely surprised by Mew at this point. Or would freefolk be a more apt description?

"No." my human half replied. Willow nodding in agreement besides me. "We do not have the food to support you and neither will the land, we are struggling with our group and our pace as it is."

"We will find food for ourselves," came the proud response, "the land will provide for our needs if we come with you."

"You will starve." Willow said and my human half had no need to translate. She and several others had begun to learn small parts of the language from their interactions with the Giants. Not enough to tell a story like last night, but enough to insult others.

Though insulting others seemed to take up most of her time nowadays.

I reached out gently to Bolor's mind with my psychic abilities and felt the sharp spike of anger at the insinuation that they would not survive. I felt the anger quickly smothered by his fear of insulting a Child of the Forest.

The issue was a real one though, my human half refused the wildling's request to follow us and several of Bolor's kin came to persuade him to take this course of action and not leave their lifelong homes. Though I noted that no one seemed to have had informed them that they would have to leave regardless, when the Others came south.

It was not long before the argument turned into screaming. Screaming that stopped when they all found themselves covered by a dark shadow.

They looked up to see Han Gar looking down on them all with a disapproving gaze.

The Giant was surprisingly quiet when he wanted to be, and if his intent was to stop the tribe from squabbling his imposing presence was enough to make it happen.

Unfortunately, the knowledge of the Others made Bolor's offer more than taking on a few star struck tribesmen, but a humanitarian mission to ensure that they all didn't die when death marched for them. The Others were out there, somewhere. And whilst I owed nothing to these men, I tasted ashes in my mouth and remembered that I was bound by Ho-Oh.

In the end it all came down to a choice. I did not wish to kill these people, I did not wish to see them die. But I did not care for them either, not that much. Not enough to risk the lives of the Children or the Giants, or to bring their species closer to extinction. Maybe when they reached The Wall they could warn the Nights Watch, get these people some help, but not till then.

My human half refused Bolor's continued requests to join them once more and a pair of the wildlings began to fight amongst one another without anyone else caring enough to interrupt.

One of Bolor's kin stepped into the conversation and suggested, "stay with us, all of you!" All those around him fell silent. "All the Children, the Giants, you and your shapechanging beast. If you did we could take all the tribes as our own! All their hunting grounds, all their women! Their treasures and food! _Everything_! Make yourself into Lords."

"You would make us kneelers!" Bolor shouted. "Fool boy, who do you take us for!"

"No, it's not _we_ who will kneel. But all the others!" he spoke like a man possessed "We will take the antler, the Mountains, even raid beyond The Wall! With the Gods by our side. Nothing can stop us." He looked at Willow, "you, your people would rise again! Think of it! Our people one again united in triumph, as it was all those years ago when the peace was first forged."

I could see the temptation in her eyes, the greed in the eyes of the wildlings. Fear in Bolor's.

I took a glimpse at his mind and saw the image of a burning home, a dead woman, dark wings.

I shook my head. "No, we are going south, not making an empire." The man's face took on a look of fury.

"Speaker of the Gods," he said looking down at Willow, "Stay with us, with you other would stay, with you we could take all the tribes of the river."

She turned to me and for a moment I saw a look of despair on her face. I could tell that she wanted to leave, but she also wanted to stay with her tribe. "If you want to," my human half said looking at her, "You and anyone else can stay with them if you want, but I'm going south." I was not here to make myself an empire. I was doing this to prevent a species from going extinct. Though I wondered if that was what I thought when I first met them all.

Though it was, admittedly a tempting idea. My mind was filled for a moment with the idea of marking the world as mine, of laying down borders, cities and armies. Bringing forth a dynasty that would last long after I was gone. One that would name me King.

"No," Willow whispered, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked at her eyes and saw the memories of the Others hidden within them.

The speaker, still unnamed had a look of disgust on his face. One that quickly vanished to be replaced with a grin.

"Get the loot!" he shouted to a woman who ran away to collect something. He turned back to us, "I heard the story yesterday, your people came here when your ancestor guided you. Would they want you to leave? I have met the crows, heard their stories. What home would you fine south of The Wall?" _One without the Others_ I thought, though didn't dare say so. The knowledge would only force them to come with us and it was already hard enough to deal with this group.

Though I did feel disgust at myself for condemning them to die thorough mis-information.

"And, should you stay," the woman came back with an object wrapped in cloth, "a mighty sword." And the man held a large sword, the metal of which had a distinctive ripple pattern. "The first prize of many to come!"

"Where did you get that," my human body asked whilst I continued to monitor the minds around me for ill intent, a skill that I had picked up from being an Abra.

"A mad old man, we met in the forest," he said with a grin. "A kneeler by the words he spoke. Though I would have said he was a crow with the way he acted. He was in rags! It would have been a shame for this treasure to be lost to the wood forever."

The man swung his sword around wildly and continued, "But I see now." There was a passion in his voice that made a part of me want to go with what he was saying, "We saw the red star fall in the north, then a sword of legend come to our doorstep. Now, the voice of the Gods come to stay the night with the Giants by their side and stories of times long past. At their front is a man who has a creature that even myths do not know of and wears white furs and silver scales." He looked around at his fellow villagers. "What greater symbol is there of the Gods favour! The opposite of a crow! What better to take the wall with."

He looked at me, "Though I would not call someone so dangerous a dove. A snow eagle, maybe?"

"What happened to the man." I looked at the person, I still didn't know his name. "The man who had this sword?"

He grinned, "come, I will show you," and led the way to a hut, before which a wildling with a stone axe stood guard. I wondered for a moment if I should delve deeper into the man's mind, but unlike my other abilities this was one that I couldn't practice easily for. I tried once on a rabbit I saw, it screamed. I tried it on insects and they all died. I did not know what it would do to this man.

He opened a small wooden door and let light stream into the dark room. I followed him in cautiously, Mew's cat eyes allowing me to see more than my human ones would.

Inside was an old man with a long, gaunt face. Long wisps of hair drifted out of his head, his eyes were closed. If this was a man that bough a Valyrian sword he would be either a scavenger with the strangest of luck, a Lord of Westeros, or a notorious bastard.

I noted that the prisoner was bound by his legs and arms with rope. The man waved the sword at the old man, "Here is the foul one. I wouldn't put much faith in him doing anything if that was your wish, found him walking blindly in the wood, didn't know up from down. I'm surprised that he hasn't died yet." He poked the old man two times with the sword and received no response, only blood leaking out of the prisoner's arm where the cuts were made. "See," he said.

I sensed an intent to harm and formed a barrier around myself. In the blink of an eye the old man had leapt to his feet, his bindings falling off. He disarmed the man and sliced his head off.

Once the shock of the moment passed he pointed the sword to us and spoke in a language I didn't understand.

One of the wildlings rushed in with an axe and found themselves with a sword in their chest. They fell to the ground and the old man then pointed the sword to me.

I blasted him to the wall with psychic and kept him pressed onto it. Though his hand never let go of the sword and I couldn't seem to grasp the blade with my powers.

The man continued to shout in his strange language. I took the time to skim off his surface thoughts, attribute sounds to images, emotions and strings of thought. It was easy after having done it to three separate groups.

Then I understood what he was saying.

"I am The Lord Commander of the Nights Watch! Release me now, or my brothers will come for you!"

I sighed. I did _not_ want to deal with this.

I used psychic to move his body and told the others to disarm him. Then got the wildlings to tie him up once more.

Once that was done I transformed into a Chansey and healed the man that was stabbed in the chest. I doubted I could help the one that was beheaded.

I looked over to the old man who was watching my Pokémon body intently as it changed back to its natural form.

"Shapechanger," he whispered.

"We have much to speak about Lord Rivers," I saw him acknowledge the name, confirming my suspicions. That would likely make the sword, now in Bolor's hand, Dark Sister.

Then I heard someone rush in from outside. Turned to see Nails run in and look at me with tears falling from her eyes.

"They're gone!" she said.

"Who?"

"Root. Root and my son! I've sent riders out but no one has seen him since last night!"

I looked back to Bloodraven. He was looking at Nails and Mew with equal amounts of awe. "We'll talk later. But if you kill anyone else here, I melt your brain." Hopefully he took the threat seriously.

I transformed into a Pidgeotto and flew out of the room, quickly changing into a Pidgeot once I had flown into the open air. My human half quickly moving outside and towards Han Gar who would hopefully keep him safe.

The direwolves would be able to track by Root and the child by scent, but Pidgeot had speed and a bird's keen eyesight.

I had had a talk with Root about his feelings and got the sensation that he was depressed. I didn't think much of it at the time and assumed that in the worst case scenario he would hold till we reached The Wall. But if it had driven him to run off with the child without even consulting Nails… I hoped we could find him soon.


	12. Chapter 12 – Amongst Friends

_Chapter 12 – Amongst Friends._

Brynden sat bruised and beaten in his cell, a thin ray of sunlight streamed through a hole in the door before him. After the man with the strange beast had left, the wildlings had made their displeasure of his killing their fellow known through punches and kicks.

He hated them for that, though a part of him acknowledged that had he not been held back by the unseen force he would have likely killed them all. His time as Lord Commander had made him somewhat bitter towards the wildlings. The only good thing about the beating was that the pain helped numb the agony he felt from hunger and thirst. Since his capture, he had not been given a drop to drink.

If only that man and his creature wasn't there. If only he had warged it away from his master the moment he saw it, if only he had been more patient with his chance of escape. Then he would be free, free to return to his brothers, to The Wall.

So many ifs. Had even one changed he would be free with a beast under his control the like of which Westeros had never seen.

He let his hands slip out of their bonds and touched his face and traced the wrinkles there.

Mayhaps, had he been freed he would find out where the wrinkles on his face had come from. When had he grown so old? How had he missed it?

He heard the door creak, hid his hands behind him and lay on the ground with his eyes only slightly ajar.

He saw a small figure slip in, a silver dagger in his hand shining in the light as bright as a mirror. A light that went out when they were plunged into darkness once more.

What happened to the guard at his door, he wondered. How would someone be able to sneak in?

He looked closer at the child and even in the small amount of light in his cell he could see that this boy was nothing like the Child of the Forest he had seen outside earlier. No this was a human child, though he would have preferred a Child of the Forest to be the one to come inside, even with the pain he could feel from his injuries he had only seen the Children of the Forest in his dreams. Dancing over the corpses of men, sometimes men with bronze axes, sometimes men with rainbow cloaks.

The boy whispered something as he walked forth and Brynden tried hard to hear.

Of the words spoken, "for my father," were the few words of the old tongue that he understood. Though Brynden wondered which of the many men he had killed would count. He reduced it to the men he had had a hand in killing after taking the black and was still left with a substantial amount. It was amusing that the child of a wildling had gotten closer than the sons of a would-be king.

He waited till the boy was close enough and as he had done with the man before, knocked the knife out of the boy's hands. Before the boy could scream, the knife was in his throat and Brynden's hand was covering his mouth to stop any noise that would have alerted anyone outside.

Blood pooled on the floor as life fled the boy's eyes.

Bloodraven looked at the knife in his hands, placing it directly in the ray of sunlight that spilled into his dark room.

It appeared to be a feather; made of a metal that was not too tough. The blade would be rendered useless if it hit bone. But given what had happened to the boy its edge was razor sharp and would be useful to those who were accurate with their strikes… as the boy had discovered. Moreover, it was beautiful. He could see the veins that made up the blade to make it appear as if it was an actual birds feather. He struggled to think of any smith being capable of such art, especially north of The Wall.

But he couldn't waste his time on such thoughts. He needed to leave, he would receive no mercy from the tribe or the man in white furs. Not for the murder of a child.

But neither would they find mercy from him. He needed to drink and eat and take his sword back. If the sounds outside from earlier were any indication, then many who were outside including the man and his beast were hopefully gone and he now would be able to escape safely.

Bryden felt a chill and turned his head around to see the boy's face. He was glad that the boy's eyes were shut, even he would only feel regret at seeing them stare at him.

He wondered where he was. Somewhere in the Haunted Forest, yes. But where exactly?

He remembered the night before he was captured. The wings that stretched across the horizon. The burning tree. The red comet that streaked across the sky.

Where were his brothers? He would not have gone without an escort this deep into the Haunted Forest.

The thoughts bough pain to his mind. He knelt on the floor and gripped his head till the pain lessened.

When it did lessen, he noticed the wrinkles on his face once more. Where did they come from? What had happened to him?

He gave a final thought to the boy behind him, his blood pooling on the ground, a cause for the tribe to chase him till The Wall if the killing of the other man was not reason enough for his immediate death. The door was before him. Gripping the blade, he opened it and stepped into the light of day.

* * *

Nails sat on her direwolf and looked at the sight before her, one that she did not think she would lay eyes on ever again. A Heart tree lay on top of a hill before her, at its base was the mouth of a tunnel nestled between two smaller weirwood trees.

In the mouth of tunnel stood a Singer of the Earth, one that she had never met before in her life. This meant only one thing.

They had, for the first time in her life made contact with another tribe. She looked to her left and right, her own tribe was positioned on the ridge, alongside the giants and the human. All of them looking down at the figure, some of her tribe speaking in hushed tones about what this meant.

Her brother was in there, she knew after tracking his scent that the trail led here. He couldn't be anywhere else.

She rode down with the human, and Willow on his opposite side till they were before the Singer.

The singer spoke to them in a soothing voice, but not in any tongue that Nails understood. Different to the language of the larger races and still similar to the speech of her own tribe, but different, like the difference between the call of a songbird and a raven.

Nails tried to speak back in her own language but the Singer only shook her head and then spoke in the tongue of the Giants.

"Follow" was the only spoken word that she understood and as the Singer went inside, they all followed.

Nails took a look at the singer and made a note of her appearance. She had bright white hair, something she had never seen on a speaking being that was not the old giant Han Gar, but her body was still young and fit and by its movements knew the twisting tunnels intimately along with every root that lined its walls and floor. Though looking closer she noted that the Singer's hair was singed black at its base, and looking at the roots that formed the tunnels, each one stronger and thicker than the ones in her old home, there were crack marks singed black in them as well.

The air around her turned warm as it was in her old home and she wondered when she had gotten used to the cold of the outside. Soon later they reached a large cavern.

It was larger than the one in her home, the floor was littered with bones. Bones of men and Singers and Giants. Bones of countless animals.

On the other side of the dark cavern she spotted the figure of another singer, sitting on and wrapped in a throne of roots too large for them.

As she walked closer she recognised the form. It was Root. She looked at the figure in his arms, it was her son.

"Nails," she heard him whisper and she rushed forward to reach him.

She tried to pull her son out of his arms only to find her brothers grip to be too tight.

"Let go Root!" she screamed and tried to force him out as well only to be stopped by the roots of the weirwood that gripped him tightly.

"Willow" he whispered, "no."

"Why Root!" she screamed, "Why are you here! Why did you take our son!"

"Nails," he whispered, prompting her to pause for a second. "I found it, I found our home."

"What are you talking about?"

"We are happy here," he sounded as if he was asleep, "the world is green and the woods sing our songs forever. I'm in love with the world and the world is in love with me."

"What are you talking about Root?" she asked again, "Let go of our son."

"You might want to stop, little one." Came a clear voice from the side. Nails turned to see a Singer come from a side tunnel, one with gold-green eyes and hair the colours of autumn. The white-haired singer following closely behind her.

"Leaf" Thored whispered.

"If that is what you wish to call me" the new singer replied. "Though I am unsure of what to call you. Thored, Dove, False Messenger? Outsider?"

"Whatever you want," he replied. "But why did you take Root?"

"You misunderstand. We did not take him out of malicious intent," Leaf replied. "We took him to save him."

"Foul murder." Root whispered.

"What?" Nails whispered. Leaf walked forward and guided Nails' hand towards Roots chest. She felt a wound, only recently healed between a pair of ribs, directed above his heart.

"Who?" she asked.

"We do not know, young one." Leaf said, speaking to her in a reassuring tone, despite the fury and fear she felt knowing that her family was attacked. "It is always sad when such things happen. We tried our best to save him, but there was a cost. His mind touches the weirwood, and the roots are in chaos." Leaf looked at Thored. "Thanks to your contribution."

"My contribution?" The human asked.

"When you called the Bright One and sang the song of life eternal across the world. There were effects beyond the rebirth of the singers and giants that travelled with you." She explained. "In that chair, once sat a man who helped keep things in check. When your song touched him, even at this distance, he was renewed in body and in his panic broke free from his bonds and ran. He ran in his madness and we could not chase as our full focus was on healing the weirwood and the wounds that had made themselves on it."

"Bloodraven," Thored said in understanding. "But I don't understand, he didn't seem to remember anything about this place when I met him. The wildlings found him lost in the wilderness. He said he was Lord Commander of the Nights Watch."

Leaf looked back at him with a curious expression. "He was, once Lord Commander of the Watch. Though his confusion, _yes_. That would explain why he did not return. Leaving the roots so suddenly and violently would have left a large part of him within them as well."

"…so he lost his memories because part of him was in the trees." Thored said and Leaf nodded.

"If he is fortunate, that would be all that he lost. Though it is interesting that you are so quick to understand, and accept how this all works."

"I've seen stranger," came his response and Leaf only grinned.

"I'm sure that you have."

"But," Nails interrupted, "that doesn't explain what is happening to Root."

Leaf sighed and touched the roots that wrapped her child. "The sous of our ancestors lay within the roots. Watching us, guiding us. When the song of rebirth was sung, there was chaos as that which is dead was touched violently by life. Then came your brother, wounded, lost and delirious in the wood. On the edge of death. We had to place him in the roots to save him, let him heal and recover. Unfortunately, whilst the body is now mended his mind is lost in the roots. Only time will mend him, if he wishes to be mended."

"I could heal him," Thored said.

"His mind?" she asked, "whilst he is linked to the Roots and all that lay within? If you are confident in your abilities I would happily step aside and let you work your miracles." Thored hesitated and Leaf noticed. "I have seen your power and your actions and know that you are capable of great things," she consoled him. "But you are too eager to run and rush. Do not be disappointed that you cannot fix this problem straight away. Be patient, we will tend to him here. If he is to be healed, he shall be." She gave a small smile to the human and to her. "If not, he will be safe in the roots eternal."

Thored looked like he was going to say something but stopped. Something was going through his mind. "Deep roots are not reached by the frost?"

"That is one way to put things." Leaf smiled. She unwrapped the roots that trapped her child. When he was free Leaf picked him up and placed him in her hands. "The frost nipped his body but the damage was light and quickly undone."

"But why did you have to put them into the tree?" he asked.

"It is the core of our magics," she said. "The Weirwood remember everything. The songs of the birds, the falling of the rain, the growth of a beast and plant. With it we can heal."

"But because of what I did, his mind?"

She looked at Thored. "Do not mistake me. You have our thanks. You have _my_ thanks. To see so many of my kind walk the earth. It brings me joy. As long as you take care of them you will always have a home in our home," she said, "Though I would ask you to beware, the stars grow jealous of one that shines too bright. As is their nature."

"My son, my son," Root whispered, fingers grasping as where his son was. "Liar, liar. Killer, killer."

"Who did it" Nails asked, hoping for an answer. Until the attacker was found they would not be safe alone.

"Forgive." He whispered.

"Who was it?" She said forcefully.

"The first verse, hides the truth." He said. He opened his eyes and they were red. Tears of blood streaked down his cheeks. "Sleep, until I choose intentions. Death, everywhere."

Willow moved forward from Thored's other side and touched the weirwood root. She collapsed.

"Forgive me." Root whispered. Then screamed and collapsed in turn.

* * *

 **Weirwoods, more complex than you think?**


	13. Chapter 13 – With Distant Family

_Chapter 13 – With Distant Family._

After the fainting of Root and Willow there was a small panic of activity and accusations that quickly subsided when it was realised that nothing could be done to help them.

None present knew why Willow had acted as she had, though Nails was quick to blame and accuse her as the one that had tried to kill Root, using her own stabbing of Willow as motive for such an action. Thored quickly pointed out that there was no evidence of such being true and less could be done to confirm any of it, as long as the two of them were out cold.

As they spoke the tribe moved into the tunnels of Leaf's burrow. The Giants staying outside as they were too large to move inside, though they expressed little desire to do so. The handful of humans that had come from the tribe stayed with the giants and remained quiet, unnoticed by Thored who would have tried to send them back had he discovered their presence.

Inside the burrow Thored, Leaf and Nails tried to solve the mystery of what exactly had happened.

Leaf argued that Willow had likely tried to reach into the weirwood roots as greenseers were able to do, but whilst Root was still using them to recover, whilst the damage to them was still being healed. Something had gone wrong and had stolen her of her mind as it had to Root and Bloodraven. Willow's body was still alive but she was tied into the roots.

Leaf advised that they leave her be and just like with Root things would hopefully mend naturally. Nails argued to kill her, whilst Thored argued that until the two recovered her accusations were without any foundation. He won the argument and was supported by Leaf when she advised that leaving her mind in the roots without a body to return to would not help Root who would find himself in a position where two minds may end up trying to enter one body.

So, with little else to do, they were left to do as they please. Nails chose to wait with the bodies of Willow and her brother whilst a member of Leaf's tribe wrapped the two bodies in roots. Whispering to them in her unknown language all the while.

Thored tried to use Mew's abilities to find out what was being spoken but found their thoughts muddied and incomprehensible. He wondered why this was the case and if the nature of the active weirwood around them would be the reason his telepathic abilities were effected.

He remained on guard. But found it hard to remain hostile when he and the tribe were provided with food. Nuts and berries and fish from an underground river.

Even the giants and men outside were given food. The men taking it reverence, the giants with a cool indifference.

The main hall was cleared of the bones that had littered it as the tribe had turned it into a temporary home all its own and small fires were lit to keep it warm.

It was not long before the Children of Leaf's tribe came out of the deeper tunnels and made contact with the rest of their kin. Though the language barrier was present the two tribes shared food and fire and found comfort in the presence of one another.

Thored and Leaf sat apart from their tribes and spoke of things to come.

"They will follow you," Leaf said, looking at the human. "as long as you are adamant to move south, they shall follow you."

"Wouldn't they be better off staying with you?" he replied.

"That is something, I do not know." She explained. "Seasons turn, and with it comes a new age. The intervention you called upon has cast back the night, but I do not doubt that it is only for a moment. You may find better fortune in the south. Warn them, befriend them, threaten them but keep our people safe."

"Our?" he asked.

"You saved their lives. Admittedly, some of your decisions have not been the best that could have been made. But if you were not here, they would not be alive." She noticed the grimace on his face. "you did not want this burden? Few would be willing to throw away such power."

"They can get… annoying at times."

"They are young." She nodded, "and listening to your friend's" she pointed at Willow, "story yesterday may leave you with an incorrect impression of our past. The truth is that I knew their Elder, he left to found his tribe less than one hundred years ago. In that blink of an eye he raised its numbers to be double of ours here." She looked sorrowful. "It is sad to see the future so clearly, to know that for the chance for our race to survive, to end the darkness of death that we had to lose that which made us who we are." She looked at him, and in her alien eyes he saw a deep well of sorrow.

"What would you advise I do?" he asked?

"I would advise that you do what you need to get what you desire." She answered, "what do you desire?"

"I want to go home," he said honestly.

"And keeping your tribe safe has hindered that? Kept you from the sky and the places where such knowledge may be? They can not be _that_ irritating?"

He was silent and murmured, "the giants are alright." She laughed, though he heard only sorrow in her tone.

"If only you knew the sorrow that lay between their race and ours." She explained, "the things we did to them, the things they did to us. I travelled the lands of the dragon in my youth, in the south, they tell stories of us as little wise creatures, or demons. The giants as monsters, all of them. I think this unfair, though not completely."

"Regardless we were speaking of your desires," she said. "How do you believe that you shall find your way home?"

He sat there thinking for a moment, and looked at the tribe of Children arrayed around him. To get home he needed to be able to turn Mew into a legendary Pokémon, specifically a Hoopa, a Jirachi with the ability to make a wish come true or a Palkia. Ho-Oh showed that it was possible but in doing so he had linked with, what seemed to be the actual Ho-Oh and had his body hijacked by it. He remembered the strain of the transformation, the duty foisted onto him as a result of it. A distant memory but one that he dared not violate. A duty to save and preserve life.

He looked at the fish that was on his plate and decided not to eat it. He had eaten meat recently, but looking at the fish made him taste ash in his mouth.

There was hope that he could get home, but what course of action would help it come into being? Ho-oh's appearance was done in a moment of chaos and death. It could have been his determination that allowed the 'transformation' to take place or it could have been the death and necromancy that offended the Pokémon god.

Would he have to find a being that damaged space time to summon Palkia? Or a fallen star to summon Jirachi?

Ultimately, he answered, "I don't know." His best hope was to travel and find an answer.

"Then, "she replied, "perhaps I should remind you that we are a very old race. The histories of this land are recorded in the roots of the weirwood trees."

"So you know how I can get home?"

"If your home was in the snows of the far north where you one day appeared from thin air then you need only fly back north. If you were moved there by another then I advise that you search the dark and strange places of the world. I shall send you a guide. Should you find a home for our people, they will stay with you and guide you through the dark places."

"They don't know our languages."

"You will learn it like you learnt all the others," she stated plainly.

"You have been watching me," he stated.

"Yes," she replied calmly. "everyone is watching you. But you already suspect this." They fell silent for a moment. Watching the activity all around them till Leaf broke the silence. "I can not remember the last time this hall was filled with such noise."

He looked at her with a curious expression. "You have enough members of your own tribe."

"We have half your number, yes." She said, "but we are old, old and bitter and reliving the shadows of memories long past." She looked at him with a gleam in her eyes. "We have ridden on the backs of dragons, carried swords of legends, sailed across the sea and slain kings. Marched across the land to found a city hidden in the mist. Run across the forest floor a thousand times and flown across the skies a thousand more. The weirwood remembers, as do we. But when we wake from the dreams we find that our people are gone, our way destroyed and we mourn." She stood. "Your companions will not be healed from the loss of their mind by tomorrow, the damage is too great. The other will stay to see that her brother-lover stays safe. But you will have to march south."

"I can't leave them behind." He said.

"You can. Because we can not support your group with the food you need. If you stay there will be deaths. You must go south if you wish to save them, and we will keep our bargain to help you find your way home. Your companions will be kept safe here, if they should wake, then we will give them the option to stay or escort them south with you."

"And the Others?" he asked. "What about when they come?"

"They will not harm us here." She answered.

"They can." He replied recalling the tunnel dug out by ice spiders and the torn down Heart Tree. Of memories of a previous life with a young boy with broken legs.

"They won't," she insisted, "their Elder was a master of the flesh and arrogant of his strength. This place will be kept safe."

He had a look of resignation about him. "If I can I'll come back to check up on you," he whispered.

She smiled as if knowing something he did not. "Thored, I have no doubt that you would if you had the chance. But the future of my race rests with you. I would rather that you keep our future alive and safe."

He looked at her strangely for a moment. "Who's Thored?"

"You," she answered, it is what all those around you call you."

"But," he said, "I've never… that's not my name."

It took them a while to find out that the name had originated from Han Gar who seemed to have misunderstood something that the human had said previously.

But by then they were all tired and ready to sleep. Thored decided to keep his name, "a new name for a new land," he said to Leaf. "Isn't that how the stories go?"

"Leaf shook her head. "Only mummers let go of their own names and even then, only when they stand on the stage." She looked him in the eyes, "this is no play, dark things are still at work. Any action you take will be _your_ action. Any life you save, a life that you have saved. I have seen you act to save the lives of my people and ask for little in return. I ask that you keep on doing so. And know that when you return to your home that it is with our aid as thanks. That when you return home, you return a hero, even if you never speak of it. That if you do not return home, the weirwoods shall gladly accept you and make you as a God in death."

* * *

Illaro Voloros was a slaver in the mighty city of Volantis. One that was preparing to become a king.

When he felt the warmth of the dragon egg he knew that his fate was sealed. He would claim Volantis and all the free cities under the wings of his dragon. He would sail east and torch the Dothraki sea and then west to sit himself on the Iron Throne of the Westerosi barbarians.

But first he had to prepare. He had little in the way of wealth remaining after the sinking of his ship, but he could make connections that would serve him well for the day that he would ascend to the throne of the world.

So he visited the temples of the gods of the many faiths of the world that he would soon rule with his wife and daughters. Daughters that would be valuable in securing alliances with his future vassals. A wife that would be set aside for a princess that would give him sons.

First was the Red Temple where he begged for forgiveness in walking in the halls of false gods. Swearing that he would spread the name of R'hllor in the lands he conquered.

Then to the others, the temples of the Black Goat, of the Graces, the Seven. The last was the Heart Tree that was of the barbarian faith of Westeros. A sickly and thin thing, half dead with a crudely caved face in it. Planted far beyond the walls of the city and bearing numerous axe marks where the faithful had tried to cut it down, only to have it grow back under the care of northmen that passed the city, as few as they were.

He and his family came and left. His eldest daughter touched the face carved in the tree but he dragged her away. When he conquered Westeros all the trees would be cut down.

As they returned to the city his head was filled with dreams of glory.

He did not notice his eldest daughter randomly twitching and when he did he insisted that it was a punishment from the true God for walking in heathen temples.

He did not understand the strange tongues she spoke and if he did he would know that she repeated the word 'Willow'.

* * *

 **That part when you forget you're in Westeros and how everyone's scheming. Next, The Wall.**


	14. Chapter 14 - In a Warm Hall

_Chapter 14 – In a Warm Hall._

I first saw The Wall flying high in the sky as an Altaria, blending in with the clouds. It dominated our view of the world, more and more the closer we got.

On dark days, it was a shadow that dominated half of the world, like a great mountain range, on bright ones it was a blinding white and blue. Sometimes we would see rainbows shine out of it.

My caravan found themselves speaking more and more of The Wall the closer we got. The Children chattered as they did, the Giants kept calm as per Han Gar's example. The few humans that I spotted in the caravan told tales to both the groups of The Wall, of the paradise that lay beyond, of the horrors that were committed in its construction. The handful Children of the Forest that were lent by Leaf, the only ones who knew the truth of its construction kept quiet and aloof.

With the power of flight, I flew as high as I could as a Pidgeot whose wings that I had grown very familiar with. As I looked through its keen eyes I could see beyond The Wall, to the lands of the Nights Watch, the order that was made with the intention of protecting humanity from a threat none in the Seven Kingdoms believed in. A threat that was coming soon.

The atmosphere in the caravan had changed with the loss of three of its prominent members. I now found myself speaking directly with the individual members of the Children of the Forest as I could no longer delegate their well being to Nails or the organisation of the hunters to Root. Just as bad was the loss of Willow from my side.

Though I felt a fool for feeling such, I had a hope that she would have changed her opinion on me, opened up a little like she did when she had begun to tell her stories. Or was I saying that because she was no longer around me to annoy me so much?

Was I right in Leaving Nails and her family with Leaf? Waiting till the Others came for them? I owed them nothing, she had chosen to stay and we could not. The land wouldn't have been able to support us.

Yet, I still felt guilty. I owed them nothing. And when Willow followed my every move, I couldn't do much with my Pokémon body without her inspecting my every move.

But now she was essentially brain dead; I had left her with Leaf. Walked away with the tribe she wished to keep safe.

This was the reason that I allowed the Wildlings to follow us all, though perhaps allowed would be too generous a term. More that I had become so self-absorbed that I hadn't noticed that there were wildlings with us till it was too late. I chose not to do much in the way of speaking with them, acting at times as if they didn't exist. I didn't recognise any of their faces anyway.

Then there were the handful of Children that Leaf had sent us. They didn't really do much. Kept themselves away from Willow's tribe as well, to the irritation of the tribe that had made gossip into a way of life.

Though there were some good parts. The giants had become favourites of all the others in the caravan with the exception of Leaf's group.

They often had Children of the Forest and young wildlings climb on their shoulders for a ride. Han Gar was a favourite and the rest of his tribe seemed to take a lead from him.

I even gave a couple of rides on Pidgeot! The members of Willows tribe were split between those who would never do it again and those who swore to never do it again and after a day or so would try to make subtle enquiries about getting another ride.

The journey to The Wall, overall was peaceful. We met a few more tribes of Wildlings and after a show of might that involved a dragon, Giants and a hundred Children of the Forest coming out of the trees we found ourselves with generous hosts. Hosts that ended up following us, though from a distance. Only catching up from sleepless marches when it was too far from their homes for me to send them back without a high chance that many wouldn't make it.

Or was that the guilt talking? At the start of this journey I would have told them to fuck off.

I never thought I'd miss those annoying shits this much. Or hate fate when the Others did less damage than a bloody Weirwood tree.

Law and order was fast and loose. The Giants were kept in check by Han Gar, the Children by me. Though I begged Hidden Path to take the role, he only responded by laughing. The Wildlings I left to themselves and only intervened when it looked like blood was going to be shed, something that was far more common than I would have liked.

The stealing of women was the most prominent of issues that cropped up and despite what the books would suggest there would be a lot of bad blood if a woman did not wish to be taken. We had one dick ripped off and a woman who was strangled in response. I had to find the culprit with liberal use of my psychic abilities.

Which was a mistake. Some of the wildlings felt the probe in their mind and appeared to be in pain as a result. Then when I found the culprit. Not through the use of my abilities, but by the fact that there was only one wildling that was incapacitated from a ripped off dick. I was a little frustrated with myself.

Regardless there was some uproar. The tribe of the murdered girl wanted death and the tribe of the man said that it was justice. I didn't really care about either of them. They were tag alongs, but I could see the eyes on me for what I would do.

There was just one problem. My life was saved by Ho-oh and I could feel its blessing of life with every breath I took. I knew that he wished for me to preserve life. So I couldn't kill the bastard, especially since I had no idea what Ho-Oh's wrath would do to me, if Ho-Oh was wrathful. I couldn't imprison him, not here in the middle of nowhere. Death seemed to be the only adequate sentence.

It was then that Hidden Path gave me an idea. One that would not only solve the issue but give both tribes what they wanted. Punishment and for the man not to die respectively.

He tried to steal a girl, and then murdered her. Hidden Path asked what my people would have done. The price for theft in the ancient world was the loss of the thief's hands.

I still remember the sound Kabutops slicing through his hands. His screams as Chansey healed his wounds so that he wouldn't die from blood loss. The grim looks of acceptance from the wildlings, the Giant's and the Children.

I should have let the wildlings kill each other. As a leader, I was the law.

I didn't speak to anyone that day.

But it would all soon come to an end. If things went correctly, I would be able to make a deal with House Stark, or the Nights watch for land for my people. Though I had plans prepared for the case where they said no. And plans for if they said no violently.

Because if they said no. If the Septon in Castle Black labelled us as demons or of the Northerners proved to be too stubborn.

There may be blood.

When we were close enough to The Wall that we would be discovered if we ventured any closer I ordered everyone to make camp.

I flew over The Wall as an Altaria, hidden in the clouds and when I was a sufficient distance south turned into a Pidgey and Flew down to the base of what I presumed to be Castle Black.

It wasn't. It was an abandoned castle. On closer inspection, it was clear that the walls had crumbled in several places, the wood had rotted and fallen through on every floor leaving little more than an empty husk of a fort that had become a safe place for a bunch of birds if the droppings were anything to go by.

I had no idea how I hadn't spotted this from above but that was an irrelevance. We had an opportunity to go south by bypassing the Nights Watch altogether.

Though it would take a few teleports.

As I thought on this the camp we had on the other side of The Wall was disrupted once more by a fight that erupted amongst the wildlings.

It was astounding how different the three species were. The Children, whenever the wildlings regularly exploded into chaos would huddle into groups and watch the exchange play out whilst staring at the show like deer caught in the headlights; if I recalled correctly they had acted the same in the past whenever Nails or Willow exploded into arguments. The Giants would glance and carry on with whatever they were doing and the Other Wildlings would shout, cheer the fighters on or join in.

It was a shock at first, but soon enough I decided to leave them on their own. After all, they weren't invited. Now, with their numbers swelled to around fifty I couldn't ignore them, lest their fight spill into the rest of the caravan.

So I only intervened when I needed to. And reasoned that they could not help but be who they were for given the culture that they were bought up in.

But they were a distraction on the other side of The Wall. One that would be a problem if I bought them to this side via. Stealth. I resolved to find out where the Nights Watch was, if they turned out to be reasonable I would think of approaching them in hopes of starting negotiations. I transformed into a Pidgeot and with a flap of my wings burst up into the sky.

I climbed and climbed till I had soared high above The Wall and when I had reached triple its height launched myself eastward along The Wall in hopes of finding an inhabited castle.

The world turned into a blur of blue, grey and green as the landscape below turned into a blur.

The eyes of Pidgeot turned into telescopes. Something that was more than useful with how quickly I was eating up the distance. But It did not last for long.

I soon overshot a castle and slowed down to scout.

I did the same thing that I had done at the previous abandoned fort. Transformed into an Altaria and covered my descent with cloud and when low enough into a Pidgey and made my way towards the fort.

A fort that was vastly different than the previous one.

The walls were well maintained and the sound of activity could clearly be heard from within. That of clashing swords above all else.

I flew beneath the walls of what I suspected to be Castle Black and when I was sure that no one could see me turned into a Ghastly.

I turned myself invisible and phased myself through the walls of the castle and pushed myself to the other side.

There was nothing special about the castle itself. It was somewhat larger than the show had indicated. A large outer wall that had several large wooden buildings and stone towers within.

The thing that made it special was The Wall behind it. Tall, icy white and imposing. Marking that this was the end of the civilised world, that what lay beyond was uncharted land fit only for monsters.

I thought of the company I kept. Giants and Direwolves, Children of the Forest and Wildliings. Apart from the wildlings I would say that we were all rather pleasant.

I kept myself invisible and floated around the Castle. There weren't many members of the Nights watch walking around, though there were a handful wrapped up in black cloaks. None of them were Jon Snow or Samwell Tarley.

I went into the keeps and went into the towers. Watched new recruits being trained, or at least as much as being thrown to the ground could be called training. Looked at the Great Lift and failed to understand it's exact mechanisms.

Soon enough I had found the Maester's chambers and when I entered I found myself in the presence of a figure that had the deep respect of the Watch. Maester Aemon. The man who let go of the crown. A crown that would have given him a continent.

He was looking outside his window that opened out to the east.

I wondered what he was looking for, could he even see clearly? I thought that he had grown blind in his old age. Or was I too early for that.

I looked around his room. A well-worn desk, a bookshelf on one side and furs on all the walls. A fire blazing in the hearth, yet his window was still open?

There was a knock on his door and a man of the Watch came in.

He spoke, "Maester, something has happened. The Lord Commander requests you in the Great Hall."

The Maester sighed. "And of this great eagle that flew above the Wall?"

"Nothing." The man replied and I cursed my carelessness, though there was not much that I or they could do much about it.

The Maester sighed in disappointment. The man closed the shutters for the window, helped the Maester out of his chair and down to the Great Hall.

They went at a snail's pace, or at least what seemed to be a snail's pace after days of riding south and more recently flying at near the speed of sound. Though this did give me the opportunity to carry on watching the brothers of Castle Black at work. Eventually we entered the Great Hall.

Inside, there were four figures. One I recognised as Jeor Mormont, standing tall with broad shoulders and grey beard, near identical to how he appeared to be on the show. Two seemed to be regular brothers of the Nights watch, one holding a bundle in cloth and the other holding the last in a restraining hold.

The Maester greeted the group. First, he nodded his head to Jeor Mormont, "Lord Commander" then to the prisoner who he stared at for a moment, "Uncle Brynden."


	15. Chapter 15 – In the Mind

_Chapter 15 – In the Mind._

Root wanted to scream. He was trapped in an unfamiliar landscape, an underground series of tunnels that seemed to stretch endlessly. The walls were covered in glowing Weirwood roots in an intricate pattern that provided the only illumination that he had.

He had run around as far as he could in the labyrinthine structure without having found any end or sight of exit. Now he was exhausted beyond words and his mind screaming at him in fear, worried that he may never escape.

He tried to remember his last actions. He remembered the moon, bright and full in the sky. He remembered the human, perhaps the human would find him? Wherever _this_ place was. His creature seemed to have no end of different forms that it could take. Perhaps one that could find him, dig up the earth and take him back into the sunlight. Or-

"Walk!" came the voice from deep in the tunnels, breaking his train of thought.

He squinted into the darkness, barely illuminated by the roots that lined the tunnel.

"Walk!" It commanded once more. It was a familiar voice. One that he felt like he should have remembered, but for some reason, couldn't place.

He found his strength and walked forward, stumbling, brow dripping with sweat. Soon the lights began to dim and Root felt hesitation take hold.

"Walk." The voice said and Root followed, the lights that lined the walls growing dimmer and dimmer with every step.

When the last of the light was extinguished he stopped.

Then he saw another light pop up in the distance. Moonlight white like the ones that he had seen, but small, like that of a candle.

"Walk." The voice commanded forcefully; Root once more found the strength to move forward. Soon enough more and more small balls of light began to appear all around him. It was as if he was entering a different land to the one he had been lost in previously. It was not long before the ground was covered in the lights, illuminating a vast cavern.

In the distance, he could make out the silhouette of someone sitting down and he tentatively approached.

Quickly, the figures features were made more prominent and Root found that he recognised the him.

He walked up to him and knelt. "Elder." He said, feeling the tension and worry that had constricted in his body let go. He felt like he could breathe again.

"Root," he smiled, "you have journeyed a long way to reach here, sit. Rest."

Root complied and took a close look at The Elder. Last he remembered seeing him, The Elder was old, wrinkled and weak. Strong in conviction, _stern_ , never smiling. Root felt as if something was amiss. "You are dead."

"I am." The Elder nodded. "But I have met the fate of all those that have fallen, even if the Weirwood fell, even after the spiders came to feast on my flesh, my mind was safe in the roots that hold the memory of all our people. And now holds your memory as well, at least until it can be reunited with your mind."

Root blinked. As much as he loved The Elder, he never liked his long and winding explanations. "So, you're alive?"

"Yes, Root." The Elder sighed. "I am 'alive' so to speak."

"And we are in the Weirwood?" The Elder nodded, "How did I get here!" he snapped, waving his arms in a burst of activity. "I was with the tribe, we were going south!" He looked around that the large cavernous space they were in, a voice in the back of his head worried that he had died.

"You are here because I guided you here." The Elder explained calmly, and Root gave him his full attention.

"How?" he whispered.

The Elder smiled and above him the ceiling was dotted with a number of the lights that covered the ground, they looked like they were stars. One light was significantly larger than the others. It looked like the moon. "I always did tell you to sleep in the dark places. Though in this case I can forgive you. You had much on your shoulders, and it did come to benefit me in the end."

"What are you talking about?" Root asked. The Elder sat a moment, looking at him with a curious expression.

"When did you find this courage young one?" He asked. The Elder moved forward and put his hand upon Root's brow. His hand felt cold but slowly gained warmth. "You are tired." The Elder took a bowl from his side and handed it to Root, "Drink."

Root looked down into the bowl and saw it filled with a thick red broth. He had never seen anything like it before, he gave it an experimental sniff. At first the smell was insignificant, distant. Then, as he took a second smell and let it into his lungs its odour assaulted his senses, the scent of old leaves, of their old home, his pack of Direwolves, of rabbit blood and singed deer fur.

He pushed the bowl away from him and looked back at the Elder who was staring at him intently.

"Have you ever wondered about why your abilities to warg were stronger under the light of the moon?"

Root shook his head, "I had never noticed?" He wondered why The Elder had mentioned this.

"It was an observation made by our ancestors." He explained, "Though there is much that even I have been unable to rediscover." He looked ahead of him, at Root but not about him instead lost in his own thoughts. "It was supposed to be wonderful here, and it is, for some of us. Those of us content to be mindless roots. Ha! All of us as one," he sneered, "the world bound as one heart, untouched by the cruel march of time. All of us in love, wonderful." Root could not recall him ever sounding so bitter.

"Elder?" Root asked, only to be ignored. The Elder seemed to be lost in his words.

"The death of our race. Reliving the dreams and memories of the past as the world moves on without us and overcomes us!" He roared, "Our greatest achievement, a library of knowledge incomprehensible. A drug. The cause of our downfall and the rot in our souls."

"Elder?" Root asked, firmly, finally snapping him out of his trance.

"Yes? Yes." The Elder said, focusing on Root once more. Root could not remember hearing the Elder sound this youthful. He was always more severe, disciplined, unyielding. He was the rock of their people and when he was lost there was a chaos that even the human was unable to tame, as unwilling as he was to take on the mantle of leadership. "You see Root. I tried to guide you here, to me, to speak to me."

"How?" Root asked.

"The same way that you lead your pack of direwolves."

"You _warged_ me!" Root hissed, feeling a coldness fill in the pit of his stomach.

"Not exactly." The Elder calmly stated, easing Root's worries slightly. "I guided you here, but did not take a hold of your mind." He paused for a second. "Though things changed after the incident with the bird." He looked at Root in the eye, "The mind in the roots were… agitated. Minds that had, for so long lost all sense of self and agency were filled with a sense of self and life, awake. The roots were damaged."

Root sat silently, a little lost, wondering if there was a point to any of this. Only the Elder's explanations made him feel this confused.

"There were issues when I tried to reach you after this, depression, a common symptom of mental alteration. The mind reacting to assault by hiding away, though depression can often cause _more_ harm. You were wandering the forest when Leaf found you, stabbed."

"Stabbed?" Root asked confused. He could not recall anything of the sort happening.

"You're recovering, but I must ask something. Root?" The Elder's eyes glanced at the bowl in Root's hands then focused on him like that of a hawk "what… made you go with the human."

"He is strong," was his immediate reply. The Elder looked displeased for a moment.

"His beast is the strong one, had I been present during its arrival it would be mine by now." He stated as a matter of fact. Root was ready to interrupt but the Elder continued heedlessly, "what do you have to say about the near murder of Willow? I _liked_ her."

"It _was_ nearly murder," he admitted. "Foul Murder. She didn't deserve it, but we had to do something." Root explained, though it all felt hollow to him. He never wanted to hurt Willow in any way, not like Nails did. "She would have killed us all."

"It was wrong." The Elder said. "Now, Drink."

Root lifted the bowl to his lips and drunk. At first, he could not taste anything. But then the drink began to resemble a broth that he had drunk when he was young, he couldn't remember what it was made out of, it was a distant memory.

He looked up, The Elder looked pleased. The world looked darker and he noticed several lights in the distance blinking out of existence.

"You do know." The Elder began to explain, "that none of this is real?" Root felt confusion take a hold of him. "We are in the roots of the Weirwood. We are but memories, shadows and whispers." Root then looked down at the bowl that he had drunk from.

He could smell blood everywhere around him.

"And now the deed is done." The Elder said, appearing to be at peace. "I feel you deserve an explanation, you are of my flesh after all. You see, I made our tribe for one purpose." The Elder explained, getting up on his two feet. "To continue our race. Our race that had dwindled so far. And was set to dwindle further still. So, I left my brothers and sisters and forged my own path. Not one lost in the memories and delusions of the past but set for the future. I began by changing our flesh to be better suited to give birth. Like that of men... or weeds."

As Root looked on, The Elder appeared to be growing younger.

"But then I asked, how would I guide our kind?" He spoke with an excited breathlessness. "How would I ensure my people stay on the course that I had set out for them?" The Elder bore a vicious grin. "I would guide them myself!" He exclaimed, "I would breed a line of bodies as similar, in flesh, to my own as I could make them. Bodies that I could transfer my mind to with as little degradation and alteration as possible. Bodies like yours, your sisters and your sons." He smirked. "Or did you think that I ordered your child's birth on a whim?"

"My son," Root said blankly. He did not know what the Elder was speaking about but he knew that it could be of no good.

"I ensured that your line would remain, as similar to my own. So as to maintain my mind after several successive transfers, there are many whose minds had fallen to the body they had been bound to, I would not be one of them."

"My son," Root growled, eyes closed. Fists clenched so hard he felt his nails pierce skin. He looked up at the Elder.

"Maybe in the future," The Elder whispered, "But, for now I have a better vessel." He grinned. Root tried to get up on his feet but found that he couldn't move. "Yours."

"Liar." He shouted, thinking of all the times that he been told that he could trust The Elder, "You were our Elder!". The Elder looked amused, "Liar!" He screamed. The bowl was not in his hands any more, it was never real to begin with.

"You have taken me in, with sight, sound, touch smell and taste. I have made you doubt and submit to my will. I have taken you out of the sanctuary of your mind." His smile went away and for a moment Root felt like he was looking at a reflection. "I'm sorry, but you were trapped from the beginning. Even with the roots with the state they are in, your body is empty and I am going to take it for myself."

"No," Root whispered, strength fading, "You're a killer, a killer!" He tasted blood.

"Forgive me, my child." The Elder, whispered. "But those lights were the remains of all the other lives that I had replaced in my time. You will now join them."

"DIE!" Root screamed with one last burst of strength.

"Forgive me." He whispered, as the lights went out.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **"We must not look at goblin men,  
We must not buy their fruits:  
Who knows upon what soil they fed  
Their hungry thirsty roots?"**


	16. Chapter 16 - At the Fort

_Chapter 16 – At the Fort._

Thwack!

Hidden Path looked at the human as he missed his target once more. Their group was waiting in the forest near the wall as the human's creature had gone forward to scout ahead. In the meantime, Thored had chosen to ask for some lessons from a member of the tribe in how to use a bow.

The results were not encouraging, not with the number of times that he was missing his target. Or with the fact that he had broken his bowstring in two instances. It was a somewhat amusing.

Thwack! He missed once again. He was supposed to be aiming for a tree but seemed to be content in hitting the tree to its left. Thored looked old enough that he would never grow to be a master archer, unless his beast had another trick to solve that. But as a distraction, especially one that had a few in the caravan laughing good naturedly, it served well.

Though he admitted it was only good natured because of the sheer power Thored had at his command.

Power that was temporarily away from them.

Hidden Path didn't know how to feel about losing the creature's protection, even momentarily, it was their only real form of defence. But with how The Wall blocked all routes south he understood the need to scout ahead. Especially after Thored had explained to him about how all of the land beyond was ruled by one man, this 'king' and how all the men beyond served under him.

It was an odd idea to him that all the land would be under one man's dominion. No, it was a terrifying one. But in the end, he saw the human's logic. They couldn't stumble forward, not when they were so close.

Though there was also one piece of trivia that held his attention.

It was how the closer that had gotten to The Wall the colder the world had become. It was an odd thing, something that Hidden Path did not expect.

"But, it makes sense?" he pondered the idea for a moment, "A giant wall of ice, and it's cold. How I didn't expect this, I have no idea?"

He looked towards Han Gar besides him who was sitting serenely, a pair of wildling children crawling up his back. It astonished Hidden Path how the giant could stay calm in the presence of the brats.

"The strange thing," he said waving his arms as he continued his speech, "is the idea that there are humans who live next to and on top of the thing? How do they survive without having their balls fall off." He paused for a second, "Didn't Thored say that the people on the thing couldn't rut? Hmm… I wonder if it's because their balls fell off?"

Han Gar grunted. The children's mothers came up to them and whispered to the children to get down off of the giant, in quiet but panicked voices. Though the children, to the amusement to the singer of the forest refused.

He reflected for a moment on the settlement that the original humans had come from. It was not very large and they had travelled far enough south that it was unlikely that the Others would find them, but he did feel sorry for the lot. If something did hit them it was unlikely that a dragon would swoop down to save them.

Though for once he had to admit that the human had made a solid decision in not inviting them. Food was scarce. A handful of the weaker members of the tribe had already decided to take a walk into the forest so as to ensure that the rest had enough to eat. If Thored know about this or not was another question, though Hidden Path was sure that no one _had_ told him. It was tradition that no one spoke of such sacrifices.

Han Gar grunted and Hidden Path looked up at the Giant, snapping out of his train of thought. "I know that you have no idea what's going through my mind." The Child of the Forest said to the Giant. "Though you probably noticed I was broody the moment I chose to shut up?" He asked to no reply. "Not my fault that your language is ridiculous. Grunt grunt grunt grut grunt, all day long. I bet you make the same sound when you rut."

On the giants back a new human woman had appeared and climbed up, grabbing the children and throwing them to the women on the ground who took them away and slapped them. All the while Han Gar had barely moved an inch. Hidden Path approved, you needed to beat a brat now and then or they grow up to be big brats.

In the distance, another group of humans broke up into a fight. He wondered how such a people had managed to survive in the world. He looked at Han Gar. "You can't stay still too long big guy, they'll start picking fights with you too."

Thored came up to them, bow in hand. "What do you need?" Hidden Path asked.

His face was stern as he spoke to the two of them, "Get everyone on their feet. We're moving. Something… unexpected has happened."

* * *

"Are you sure?" Lord Commander Mormont asked Master Aemon who had found a chair to sit on.

"Uncle?" The old man said, looking at the man who looked like a member of his family, one that had been lost a long time ago.

The room gazed at him as he stared back at the old Maester that had just named himself his nephew.

"Of all the things the cold brings, this is not something that I am glad for," the Lord Commander grumbled. "Maester, this man is nowhere near old enough to be your uncle. Regardless, we found him Beyond The Wall, called himself Lord Commander and carried a… special sword."

He placed a roll of cloth on a table and unravelled it to reveal a sword that the Maester had not seen in a very long time. "Dark Sister." He whispered.

Lord Commander Mormont huffed, "well, at least we can't say your eyes have completely failed." He looked at the prisoner who was still held down by two brothers of The Watch. "The man ended up cutting down three of our brothers before he was subdued. Only the fact that he spoke like a noble and carried Valyrian steel was enough to get the men to not cut him down where he stood."

The Lord Commander looked at the prisoner in disgust. "I am sure," the Maester interrupted, "That the prisoner is glad to be alive."

"Now, what made you think he was your uncle?"

"He looks just like him." The Maester replied. "From all those years ago. As if he had been taken from then, and placed before me now." He sighed, "Though, possibly, my failing sight made me see things that I know to be were untrue." He looked at the Lord Commander. "I had spent my time looking at the sky for sight of the great bird that was said to have flown above The Wall. With my eyes as they are... I may have seen things."

"But the sword." The Lord Commander interrupted, grabbing the blade and placing it in the Maester's lap. "It matches the description I remember. Are you sure that it is Dark Sister?"

The Maesters hand gently caressed the blade, tracing some of the flowing patterns of the metal, the ripples that marked it as Valyrian steel. He grasped the hilt and lifted the sword before him, looking at his own distorted reflection in the blade. "I am sure," he replied, his voice surer than it had been. He looked at the man on the floor who stared back with sharp crow-like eyes. "This _is_ Dark Sister."

The Lord Commander looked at the prisoner. "I heard you have a big mouth on you? Where's it gone?" The prisoner remained silent. Mormont looked towards the Maester. "I have an idea. Bloodraven went missing Beyond The Wall years ago. It is possible that he had a child in that time?"

"Yes." The Maester answered. "Though this man would be too old to my eyes."

"Hmm… yes." The Lord Commander pondered, "he could also be from the south. A child that he bought with him up north? And we do know how the winter can age a man, how even younger wildlings look like grown men. Then the Bloodraven likely deserted to raise him, I see no other reason how this man would know our tongue as the men said he was." The Lord Commander nodded to himself once more. "Probably heard about the south and though that because his deserter of a father was Lord Commander he could take the place."

"There is one problem with that." Maester Aemon replied. He looked to the man that had escorted him in, "How old do you think this man is?"

"Old." The brother replied.

"I find the story a little farfetched." The Maester traced the hilt of Dark Sister from its place on his lap.

"What other answer do we have? He has the sword, the eyes, the language, the sword skills and the resemblance." the Lord Commander asked.

"He could be anyone. The coincidences could be just that, a number of coincidences, ones with potentially many answers. Alternatively, we could ask him?" the Maester suggested.

"Tried that. Beat him a little and he won't even beg for mercy. Won't even tell us his name."

"Hmm," the Maester murmured and turned to the prisoner. "May I ask what your name is?" He asked the man. There was no reply, just a cold stare back.

There was a knock on the door and the Lord Commander told the person to come in. "Lord Commander," he said, peering through the door. "The large bird, it flew over us once more, the men are panicking."

The Lord Commander sighed and began to move out of the room and bid the brother that escorted the Maester inside to follow. "I'll settle things outside. Maester, keep our friend company, see if you can get him to speak." And he moved out of the room after giving a firm look to the two brothers of the Watch that were holding the man on the ground.

A moment passed, then another where Maester Aemon stared at the prisoner, still seeing the face of his uncle, the Bloodraven, no matter how illogical it was that this was the same man, unchanged from all those years ago. No matter how improbable the idea of this man being his son was. With the other possibilities being even more unlikely.

He saw the prisoner's muscles tighten, shift his weight back slightly and then roll forward out of the grasp of the brothers.

The Maester saw a flash of silver and a small blade that looked like a feather was suddenly in the man's hand.

The prisoner lunged up from the ground like a serpent, grabbed one of the brothers and threw him into the other. He turned and stopped when he saw the tip of Dark Sister pointed at his throat.

"Enough" Maester Aemon said, with a steel in his voice that had not been present for many years.

The prisoner grinned, "You remember your stance." He stepped backwards, and swept the dagger at the blade, forcing it out of his path.

He stepped forward smashing Maester Aemon's fist to send the sword flying out of it and then moved behind him, placing the dagger at the old man's throat and keeping him as a hostage between him and his two former captors.

"Don't move, don't shout." He said firmly, keeping a tight grip on the Maester. They looked wearily at each other, hands gripped on the blades sheathed on their belts. "Keep the blades sheathed, throw them away, to the side," he commanded. "Now!" the two grit their teeth and complied.

A tense silence followed, one in which neither party seemed to know what to do. "You have not planned this so well, have you?" Maester Aemon whispered loud enough for the man holding him hostage to hear. His grip tightened.

"You have me," the Maester continued, "you are armed and somewhat free. What will you do now?" He asked the man, "In the middle of Castle Black, hundreds of my brothers surrounding you, no friend in sight. What do you think will happen?"

Silence fell, "You did not think this through, did you?"

The man growled, "you always were a clever one, but you forget that _you_ are the one with a knife to your throat."

The Maester chuckled, "at least I am not the fool who planned an escape that would result in nothing but my own death." He closed his eyes, sighed then opened them, looking at the worried faces of the brothers before him, worried less about their own safety than his. They were his family, he cared about them and they cared for him. But before them, he had another family, "it truly is you, uncle?"

" _If_ you are my nephew and not an illusion." He growled.

"I am not, I assure you." The Maester said calmly, "yet, how have you survived all of these years?"

"If I knew," he hissed, "I would not be here, like this."

"and why did you attack your brothers?"

"Because I am the Lord Commander," he spat. "How else would I react to such behaviour!"

"Uncle," Maester Aemon said calmly, "You have not been the Lord Commander for many years."

The door opened and from outside Lord Commander Mormont walked in, looked at the scene before him and motioned for the two brothers of the nights watch to leave the room. They hesitated but he was firm, "leave."

The Maester noted the shift in his voice. How it sounded more like a growl.

"Are you hurt?" he asked the Maester who shook his head in a negative. "Good. Now, Bloodraven," the Lord Commander said firmly, locking his eyes firmly with the man holding the dagger, "there is only one question I want to ask. Where did you get that sword." He gestured to Dark Sister on the ground.

"It is mine," came the reply.

"Not last I saw." He replied. He looked at the dagger, "neither was the one in your hand." His eyes focused with fury and he hissed, "what did you do to them?"

"What?" Bloodraven whispered to himself, confused about what the Lord Commander had spoken of.

"Did you murder them? I can think of no other way of you getting them," the Lord Commander continued. "Well, _Did you_?" His face twisted in a way that Maester Aemon had not seen a face do before.

"What are you?" Bloodraven asked.

"I am the one who took that sword from you the last time." He replied.

Bloodraven gasped, pushed the Maester to the side and threw the knife like a dagger at the man. It bounced off of him harmlessly.

Bloodraven leapt to the floor to grab Dark Sister but he was quickly swept aside and slammed into the wall behind him by a large red and black claw.

The Maester looked at what was once the Lord Commander and saw, in his place a creature unlike any he had seen before.

It looked like a hound on its back legs with black-grey fur. It had blue eyes, and a large red mane. It stood as high as any man but with its presence, dominated the room.

It growled as Bloodraven scrambled on the floor for Dark Sister. It burst forward and in a single step swiped him up off of the floor, grabbed him and held him aloft in his arm, choking him. The beast then began slamming him over and over into the wall and floor till they began to be stained red with blood.

When the beast noticed the blood, it stopped and dropped him onto the ground. Put a paw against Bloodraven neck and when satisfied turned around to find the Maester standing with Dark Sister pointed in its direction.

It opened its maw, displaying its sharp, white teeth then closed it again.

"It looks worse than it is." The creature spoke in a growling tone. Unlike that of the Lord Commander Mormont which it had used moments ago. "He will live, I will make sure of it. However, he has… _irritated_ me a little."

"What are you?" The Maester asked.

"Would you believe, a friend?" He received no response and noticed the Maester's arms shaking from holding the blade up so long. "How about someone who would like your help?"

"What do you want?" He prodded further but was distracted by the sound of footsteps from outside.

"I would like it if you kept my involvement in this a secret. I did not intend to… lose my temper, but your uncle is becoming somewhat irritating." The beast sighed. "I intend neither you nor your brothers any harm."

"My uncle?"

"Will live." The Maester appeared unmoved, "How about this. Keep my secret and I shall give you what you've always wanted."

"And what is that?"

The mouth of the creature's face twisted into what he suspected to be a grin. "I will let you touch a dragon."

The door opened and the Lord Commander came in, took a look at the room and asked, "What by the Gods just happened?"

To his eyes the beast was no longer present in the room, but he could still hear its deep breaths as if it was still present. He knew the creature was still there, watching him.

Maester Aemon lost his grip of Dark Sister, dropping it to the ground. He too collapsed, unable to keep himself up any longer, feeling every muscle ache as his age caught up with him. "I," he whispered, "I have no idea."


	17. Chapter 17 - Where Tea is Made

_Chapter 17 – Where Tea is Made._

Maester Aemon was a brother of the Nights Watch. For years he had served the Watch and seen a number of Lord Commanders come and go in his time.

He could have been the King of Westeros. But he took his vows to guarantee the safety of his brother's crown. To ensure that no one would be able to use him as an excuse to rebel and split the Seven Kingdoms in war once more.

I still remembered Sam's speech when he died. ' _He was the blood of the dragon. But now his fire has gone out.'_ In the show, he died with his brothers around him, all there to pay their final respects to a man who represented a by-gone era, a guide, a friend. In the books, he had a less noble end.

I stood in the same room as him. It was just the two of us. He had asked the brother that had guided him up, to leave him on his own for the rest of the day, unless he called for help. As he sat in the chair, the room filled with golden light and the smell of smoke from a fireplace that served as a poor substitute for the dimming light and heat from the setting sun.

Standing before him, the smoke, light and silence filling the room I took the time to think. As I thought on where I was and who I was with, I gradually realised that I was standing before a legend.

It was strange, I suppose. I had spent all my time around figures that the people of Westeros would find little more than myth and not for a moment did I feel phased. To take The Children of the Forest, they were irritating beyond words at times, frustrating to deal with, worryingly alien in terms of culture in the moments that they did something I did not expect.

The Children of the Forest had forced me to live a life where I had to make hard choices, to leave three of their tribe behind to preserve the lives of the rest. To have a hand in ripping a community form their home in the name of preventing the extinction of a species. It was hard to say that the brats had grown on me, but they had.

I had met Giants, considered Han Gar to be my best friend in this world. Considered them to be a group that I could rely on to be peaceful and calm. I had met Leaf and an amnesiac Bloodraven. But when we met: Leaf took the role of a caring old lady who had seen too much shit, Bloodraven had taken the role of the cunt.

And now I stood in an empty room with an old man who had every right to be terrified of me, looking at him like he was a hero of mine come to life, though I doubted he could see that expression with the form I wore, I probably looked hungry to him.

 _'And now his watch is ended.'_ I remembered his death. I had not changed form on the basis that I did not wish to show more of my abilities than I needed to. No, I remained a Zoroark, though it was not the best option I could have chosen it was the form that I had taken when we first met.

My teeth were small knives, my blood red claws longer ones that could punch through a wooden door if it wasn't too thick. My body had muscles that felt nothing like that of my human form, they were like springs that were ready to burst at a moment's notice, filled with pent-up energy.

My eyes were sharp, I noticed the trembling in his hand, it had not stopped since I had revealed myself. My nose could smell the cold sweat that signified fear, my ears the whistling of steam as it came out of the pot above the fireplace.

I walked over to it, my strange legs moving awkwardly as I tried not to let my wide body knock anything in the small room over, the claws on my feet clicking against the wooden floors. I gripped the pot handle in between my claws, bout it over to the table that sat between me and the Maester and poured the hot water into the two cups that sat on it.

"Thank you for this," I said in my rumbling voice. "It has been a long time since someone has offered me a cup of tea, though this is not what I am used to, it is close enough."

I waited for a moment to see if there was a response but heard nothing but the sound of the log in the fireplace burning.

"I went down to the cells and healed your uncle of any injuries I inflicted on him and have put him to sleep."

"What do you want?" the Maester asked. His voice trembled though I was not sure if it was the remnants of shock, weariness or fear that was the cause. I suspected it was a mix of the three.

"Nothing much. Just my role in tonight's events to be kept quiet. And if you are feeling charitable, your support when those that I have sworn to protect arrive at the gate to seek passage south."

"More… beings like yourself?" he asked, looking at me in the soft golden light of the sunset as if to ensure that what he was seeing was truly there.

"No," I replied. "A group of… tag alongs that I have sworn to protect… and some I have not."

He reached out to his cup on the table, hesitated for a moment, then bought his shaking hand back to his side. "If your… tag alongs are as strange you there is not much I can do. But if you can disguise yourselves you may be able to make your way through." He said, "you may have a chance. But there is little peace between The Watch and the Wildlings, it will not be easy, you will need something to offer for passage."

I thought of the Children of the Forest and their beasts and the Giants. There was no chance of pretending they were human with the powers that I currently had at hand. I wondered if anyone would have such power with the magics of this world and thought of warlocks and shadow-binders' half a world away. "I do not have enough magic for that." Though magic was not the right word for what a Pokémon could do, it seemed to be the simplest way of describing my capabilities.

Aemon was silent for a moment. He picked up his cup gently and took a whiff of the steam coming out of it. "Did you know that the Maesters, men like me, in the south say that magic died with the dragons," he whispered calmly.

I thought for a moment on how to respond. "Yet here I am." He remained silent. "You are not a Maester in the south." He gave me a curious look. "and I did promise to show you a dragon." His mouth twisted, as if he had tasted something sour.

"Do you think I care about dragons?" he replied with scorn, the golden light of the sun in the distance was fading away. "I have seen my uncle come back from the wilds as young as he was the day he left. I see before me, a creature the likes of which are not even spoken in legend, one that I have no doubt is capable of slaying a large portion of this castle." He had a look of determination in his eyes. "Do I care about dragons? Not all dragons are the same. The dragons I loved and gave everything for are dead. Now, there are only beasts. Beasts picking a corpse and stone eggs across the sea that may never hatch."

For a moment, the room was illuminated in a bright gold light as the sun's rays reflected off of The Wall.

"I am helping you. Not because of dragons, but because I am scared." The Maester said. "I gave up dreams of dragons when I put on my chains, so I would like to know: Who are you? I gave up on dragons when I swore my oaths to my brothers, here. So for the love I have for them. Why are you here?"

His hands were shaking more than ever.

"I have asked you for this many times now. All the other times you gave me answers that I can not believe to be the truth. I do not want dragons, I want knowledge, the knowledge to keep my brother's safe from whatever you may do to them."

The gold light passed and the room was put into a shadow with a small orange glow. The light that shone so brightly only shone for a moment, before the sun went on its way to setting. Maester Aemon was breathing heavily, the effort to speak took much out of him.

"I…" I froze, wondering what I could say. I had said what I was comfortable with and thought that it would have been enough, though clearly it wasn't. "I don't know what to say to you," I admitted. "I have said all that I can. If I say too much I might scare you," I could smell his fear, "or maybe you just wouldn't believe me."

"Let me be the one to decide what I believe. Know that there is little right now that I would not believe. As for fear," the Maester's hands gripped the table and stopped shaking. "I am old. Fear is all that I have left. My eyesight is lost on some days, fair on others. Though more often than not, I spend my time in the darkness of this tower. I chose it so that the sun would always come in at the beginning and the end of the day. I do not know which sun will be my last. You have my silence, not that it mattered as there is no one that would believe me if I spoke the truth. I do not know what else I can give you."

I stayed silent for a moment and looked at my own tea cup. I tried to grasp it with my claws but found them too unwieldly. I thought of another way to drink. I gripped it with my maw and quickly flipped my head up so it would spill into my mouth. It burnt my tongue and several drops flew onto the fur on my face.

I thought for a moment on how to respond. On the Children of the Forest, on the Giants, the Spiders, wargs, the Others. He had to be warned, but after his speech, would he truly believe a fantastical answer, would he assume that I was lying? "Would you trust anything I say?"

"I can not promise, though I would try." Aemon gave me a distant look. "You do, after all, look like a monster."

After putting the cup back down on the table I took a moment to think. "I suppose I look like a monster. These claws and teeth, I can understand any... apprehension." I looked at him, his violet eyes were a little glassy, focused unlike those of the actor that played him, younger.

If we were to get anywhere he needed to believe me. But by his tone, I was a little doubtful that he would.

"Our first meeting was not the best," I admitted. "I assaulted your uncle, I have been deceitful with my illusions and have given you reassurances that I am sure sounded like threats or empty promises to you."

"You are speaking to me, and you are saying much, but..." the Maester sighed, "All I want to know is why you are here, and what you want?"

"I am here because I want passage south for those that travel with me, that is what I want." I spoke plainly.

"You do not understand," the Maester said once more. "Why are you _here_ , with me? I would not have much say about letting you through The Wall, I am not the Lord Commander." I froze. "and I doubt that you have done all that you have done to buy my silence, not when you could have killed me and my uncle and kept yourself free of the blame. If my silence was all you wanted then there would be no tea. What are you planning? What do you want?"

His earlier statement threw me off guard. I had thought that of all the people that he would have been able to make a difference. But why had I thought that? He was the Maester and well loved by his brothers. But why would his word not be worth something?

"Are you not the Maester? Why would you have no say in allowing us south?" I asked.

"That is a matter for the commanders and the Northern Lords." He explained, "I can only advise and in this circumstance my advice will not be heeded. They are as knowledgeable of The Wall and the Wildlings as I am. If I lie, they will know."

"Oh," I said, more than a little disappointed. Though I should have suspected something like this. Why had I not tried to convince Mormont?

I asked myself the question he was asking me all this time. Why was I here when I could have gone to the Lord Commander?

Then I realised why I was here. I was here, not for any of the reasons that I had spoken, though they were important. I was here because he was Maester Aemon. That was the reason I had come to see and follow him in the first place. Because I knew him, and expected things of him. Even though he did not know me.

 _'Egg, I dreamed I was old.'_ I knew him from his death.

 _'Kill the boy and let the man be born._ ' I knew him from the advice he gave to others. But he did not know me, he was not my friend, he was not what I had imagined. He was a person, and I was a monster. What had I been hoping for in those few moments that I had spent searching for him? Following him?

"Is there anything else you need?" he asked. I looked at him and saw confusion in his eyes. Was he expecting me to hold him hostage? What was I expecting? A legend? The wise old man to guide the foolish youth?

I sighed, "I do not know." I had come here to scout, I should have kept on my mission. My place was with the caravan, protecting them. I had dealt with Bloodraven and spoken with the Maester. What more reason was there for me to be here?

I spoke to him, "You said you can't do much, but any help you can give would be appreciated. When the time comes."

I looked at the Maester on the other side of the table. So close, but so distant. I wondered how odd I must seem, a talking monster.

"There is nothing else I have left to say," I murmured and saw from his face that he had nothing to say to me in turn, not now at least. Not whilst he was this afraid. Yet, I felt like I had to say something, anything. "My offer of the dragon, it is still on the table, if we get the chance."

The sun had finally set, the illumination in the western sky was dying down, giving way to darkness. _'And now his watch is ended.'_

I though on my plans as I walked out the door. The caravan was near enough that we could begin speaking officially by tomorrow. The Watch wouldn't normally deal with Wildlings but I had hope that the Lord Commander would change when exposed to The Children of the Forest. Hopefully I could finally get a warning out about the Others.

If not, then I would have to go for plan b.

As I left his quarters it felt like I was saying goodbye to Maester Aemon for the last time. Not the man but the character, the illusion in my mind of the wise old man. _'He was the blood of the dragon, and now his fire has gone out.'_

Could I treat others like this. Like I knew them, when in reality I didn't? My heart said no.

 _'He was Aemon Targaryen, and now his watch has ended.'_

* * *

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	18. Chapter 18 - Besides a Wall

_Chapter 18 – Besides a Wall._

Jeor Mormont felt tired. He had expected his time at The Wall to be a good, honourable way to live out the twilight of his life, a way for him to step aside as his son Jorah took his place as the head of House Mormont. Instead he found that his son had taken to slaving and had been banished by Lord Stark from Westeros. Banished because he had run away from his execution. Run away with his southern wife, a wife that had left him a cuckold for some Essosi merchant.

He was not Lord Commander at the time.

Lord Command Qorgyle was the one in charge at the time and had maintained the system of regular ranging's left by his predecessors. Even as the numbers of The Watch were too low and growing lower with every ranging, ensuring that many ranging's were undermanned or exhausted.

But upon receiving Longclaw, his family's ancestral Valyrian steel sword, Jeor found his strength return to him and took part in every ranging that he could, took his place in the front lines whenever he could and never left a single one of his brothers behind.

Not if he could help it.

For his deeds, with the passing of Qorgyle, he was elected Lord Commander. He felt some shame lift off of his shoulders on that day. Only some of it.

He recalled when he first left Bear Island, he thought that he would find some solace at the Wall. Fighting for the rest of his days and keeping some of the vilest scum in Westeros in line. He was wrong.

It started with the light in the North. They saw it illuminate the sky and by the ravens it had been seen as far south as Winterfell.

The men were calling it the False Dawn.

Lord Stark and the other Lords of The North had said that they would send men to support in the investigation, though only Houses Mormont, Umber and a handful of warriors from the mountain clans had come to support them as of yet.

Then several of his rangers were killed by the man carrying a Valyrian steel sword north of the Wall, a sword that was the infamous Dark Sister. Maester Aemon had said that the man was the old Lord Commander Brynden Rivers, though that was clearly impossible. It was clear that despite his long years of service the Maester was growing old. It may be good to request The Citadel for a new one.

Then there was the bird. The men all repeated it flying above The Wall. A bird that was as large as any man, a bird that made the wind scream as if flew by at unimaginable speeds.

He had gone outside to find it and when he went back in the old Maester had somehow found the strength to knock down the stranger that had somehow gotten loose from his bindings to put down the brothers that were watching over him.

But that was not his problem for the moment.

He rode through the tunnel beneath The Wall to the party of five that waiting on the other side.

He had ten rangers of the Watch by his side, the presence of Hugo Wull and five of his clansmen, wearing furs and carrying bronze and steel axes, the Greatjon Unber, an old friend of his and his son the Smalljon, a boy who looked to be a younger image of his father in addition to three of their own men at arms.

They were both bought up to Castle black by the False Dawn and had just arrived in the morning, apparently having met one another on the Kingsroad to Castle Black.

They went beyond the Wall with him to meet the five that were on the other side because of _what_ was there.

Three wildlings, two on foot and one in white furs on a snow white horse. Besides them was a child, its body wrapped in furs and vines to the point where little of their body was visible. Though what was interesting was what the child rode on. A direwolf. It couldn't be anything else given that it was as tall as his chest.

The last one was the most surprising. Something that he had only seen once in all of ranging's he had undertaken, something that had only been whispered. Something that even Lord's Wull and Umber could not ignore.

A Giant.

So they rode forward, twenty two against five and a direwolf.

"Hail stranger." He greeted in the Old Tongue. A language that was more than familiar to the three Lords present living so close to The Wall and having more than their fair share with Wildling raiders, and for the former Lord of Bear Island occasional traders.

"Hail." The stranger on the horse said. He seemed to be the leader of the group.

"What brings your group the Castle Black!" he replied. His men had taken positions behind him with their bows, all watching the Giant.

"We wish for passage south for our group," was the reply.

Jeor knew of the reaction of those behind him even though he dared not turn back to look. Neither the Umbers nor the mountain clans had had any favourable interaction with those on the other side of The Wall and would refuse, even a group as small as this to go through had it not been for the Giant.

The Giant by itself may be enough for the Greatjon to make a concession this one time, even if only because of the coat of arms of House Umber and the unchained Giant it bore.

It was strange that the ones who would be most favourable to the wildlings were likely his own brothers. Having traded, bargained with and on some occasions, slept with the Wildlings. There were many on The Wall who would find the lords of the south to be more alien than those who dwelt on the other side of The Wall. Lord Command Qorgyle used to say such before his watch ended and he was from Dorne.

"What are you willing to bargain with?" He asked. It was not the first time that Wildlings had been let south though they would never let it become common knowledge. Though it was traditional for The Watch to take whatever they could in exchange for passage. In many cases, for those who were nothing more than bloodthirsty savages, unfit for the lands beyond, their lives.

"Nothing." Was the simple reply.

Jeor looked at the man on the horse, clad in the furs of a snow bear. He was clearly not from this far north. His skin was too dark, touched by some sun, his accent nothing like that of this place. If he had to bet, this man was from Bravos or Kings Landing. He was definitely not from The Watch, Jeor knew all of his brothers, not that there were many of them. He also knew all of the deserters and this man was not one of them.

"Your horse seems valuable enough," Jeor replied and it was a stunning white horse with fur as clear as fresh snow. "As does your cloak, and the axes of your companions." Though the axes were nothing special.

"I do not think we would need to do that." Was the swift reply.

"I see you have a Giant, but that would not be enough for passage." Was his simple explanation. Though in all honesty that was all a lie. The Giant was enough to grant them passage. The Umbers would be curious, not to say anything of the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. If there was anything that would aid The Watch it was that beast. Then there was the Direwolf, something that would surely interest Lord Stark.

"The Giant was there to get your attention. What I propose to trade is a meeting."

"A meeting?" He asked curiously, glad that his companions had chosen to stay silent all the while.

The man looked at the child on the direwolf and nodded.

The child removed the vines and furs that covered its face. Jeor felt his heart freeze and heard his men let out a gasp.

He took a long look at the being to make sure that his eyes were not deceiving him.

"Gods," he hears Wull whisper.

"It can't be," said the Smalljon.

But it was. The child was not human, not with that skin, not with those eyes. The one that rode the direwolf was one of the Children of the Forest.


	19. Chapter 19 - At the Castle Black

_Chapter 19 – At the Castle Black._

"Why do they all wear Black?" Hidden Path asked, knowing that I wouldn't answer. "It's not like it hides you in the snow, probably takes a lot of effort to dye as well." He also knew that no one would understand him as long as he didn't used the few words that he knew of the Old Tongue. "On the other hand, if you're living next to this block ice you'd get lost if you wore white furs."

Eight of us sat on either side of a table. On my side was myself, Hidden Path and two of the wildlings that had taken to following our caravan.

The Giant that came with us, one selected by Han Gar was outside, getting gawked at by the Nights Watch and Northern warriors who were specifically instructed by their Lords to do nothing to provoke him. Especially when they saw the log he carried, one that had been shaped into a fearsome club that could strike three men with one swing. To ensure that the Giant would remain unprovoked my 'horse' kept watch from the stables.

On the other side of the table sat the Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, the Smalljon of House Umber, Hugo Wull of the Wull clan and Aemon Targaryen who sat silent, looking at Hidden Path.

"Thored, the one that's looking at me, how did he become so… _saggy_?" Hidden Path who had become a mythic figure to the Westerosi.

"May I ask what he said?" Smalljon asked.

"He said that it is an honour to meet with the men of The Watch." I replied, not willing to tell them his actual question.

The sight of one of the Children of the Forest had changed the attitude of all the Northerners. Where once they were standoffish and a little curious about the giant, they quickly changed their attitude to reverent when we made the great reveal. Some of the Wull and Umber men had even gone on their knees.

"And it is our honour to host him." Came the Lord Commanders reply.

I nodded and turned to Hidden Path; told him in his tongue. "Stop distracting me."

"I have no idea what you're saying to them, Thored, neither do the other humans," he said pointing to the wildlings who were fidgeting in their seats, aware of the fact that they had been disarmed on coming into the castle. "We need a break or we're all going to go crazy." He wasn't wrong, we had been waiting for some time whilst the Lord Commander had put Castle Black into order after our arrival.

I turned to the Lords and spoke to them in the common tongue, "he is also glad to meet once more with the men of The North, whose ancestors helped push back the Long Night many years ago."

I saw the three Northmen puff up in pride. The Maester looked at Hidden Path with a calculating gaze.

"As it should be!" Smalljon boasted, "we remember the past! To think that the Maesters say you don't exist!"

"Yes, we are honoured." Lord Wull interrupted, a little irritated at Smalljon for whatever reason. He looked at the Lord Commander and Jeor Mormont spoke.

"Yes, it is our honour to host you all. As long as you need shelter you shall be given it. Though we are diminished, neither you nor the rest of your group shall find our generosity lacking." I let out a breath in relief. "Though I will have some of my trusted men escort you wherever you go in the Castle."

"May I ask why?" I replied thinking back to our entrance into Castle Black. The Brothers of the Watch all stood in shock, some whispering between themselves, some kneeling. One had gone into a violent rage shouting about demons. His brothers bought him to the ground.

"Not all of the brothers here are… honourable men." I also suspected that many also followed the Seven and whilst I did not recall their opinion on the Children of the Forest I would bet that it was not positive one.

I nodded at Mormont whilst Hidden Path interrupted once more, "I'm going to be honest here, I think you're using me? Is this like that human tribe. Am I one of their Gods?"

I hissed, "no," in the language of the Singers. "You are not one of their Gods. If you were I would be _very_ worried." The Northerners looked at me with confusion.

"I think your lying." He replied. "Tell them I want more of the kneeling. I will be the God that demands kneeling."

"Stop talking." I replied. Then I turned back to the other side of the table and speaking in the Common Tongue of Westeros. "We are thankful for your hospitality. We won't stay too long and though we mean no offence we would like to start moving south as soon as possible."

The Lord Commander looked to his companions. Smalljon looked like he was about to speak but Lord Wull spoke before he could. "It's Lord Stark that would normally let you into Westeros. But he is not here. Clan Wull will be honoured to have all of you in our halls."

"And House Umber!" Smalljon interrupted, thumping his fist on the table.

"Thank you for your generosity," I replied, "how long would it take you to set up the rooms for us?" I asked the Lord Commander.

"The Giant will be an issue." He said simply, "We just don't have any rooms large enough for him to get into. But if he can stay in the stables he should be fine. For the four of you there will be rooms set up."

I blinked. "Four?"

"Yes?" The Lord Commander replied somewhat wearily. "Are there… more?" He asked, knowing that the answer was yes.

"We are nearly two hundred in total right now."

The Lord Commander and the two Lords looked a lot more guarded. "That is a lot more. The Watch will be somewhat strained."

"And that many Wildlings this side of the Wall is another problem." Lord Wull interrupted. "Aye, Jeor. Do not think that I am besmirching your name but unless they are kept under watch, we can not let so many through so easily."

"We don't have to let so many wildlings through." I shrugged. "But that's still one hundred and fifty coming through."

"One hundred and fifty… giants?" Smalljon asked tentatively.

"Twenty giants." I replied simply, "around a hundred Children of the Forest."

The eyes of the Westerosi widened as they took a deep breath.

"Gods of stone and river." Lord Wull murmured.

"Yes!" the Smalljon roared.

"Gods of blood and root." Lord Wull continued as if in prayer.

"My Lords" Jeor Mormont interrupted, "if you crow like crones at every moment, I will worry for The North."

Smalljon grinned, disregarding Jeor's words and turned to Aemon ,"Well Maester? Are the Children but legends any longer? Stories told by primitives?"

"Smalljon!" Jeor Mormont growled. "You will not insult my Maester under my roof."

"You have to-"

"Smalljon!" Jeor interrupted.

"You must know!" Smalljon continued, "Lord Wull wouldn't, he stays in the mountains but we see the likes that come up the Kingsroad to the Wall." How many look at us as if _our_ Gods are wrong? As if the Andal Gods are true. How Many Maesters speak of our history as if it is myth. This is what I think of their history" He spat, "More than one hundred Children of the Forest spit on their histories!"

"Smalljon." The Lord Commander growled.

"It is-" Smalljon stopped when Lord Wull put his hand on his shoulder. Smalljon looked at the Lord.

"You may have grown but are still our younger." Lord Wull stated. "You are excited. I understand, so am I to hear of legends returning. But when the Lord speaks in his Castle. All others stay silent."

There was a moments silence and the Smalljon relented.

Jeor gave a thankful glance to Lord Wull before speaking. "You are Greatjon's boy. You are grown and I will not give you the beating that you deserve. But I will ask you to honour your father who is not here. By your actions you shame your House and its name. Not only in the eyes of Lords and men but in the eyes of the Gods." He pointed to Hidden Path.

"Forgive me" Smalljon said to the Lord Commander and to Hidden Path. "I am just… honoured to be here, _now_." He grinned, "and just after the False Dawn, though if it heralded your return it can no longer be called false."

"I don't like the look in their eyes Thored" Hidden Path interrupted, "if they want to sleep with me, tell them that I have bitten off things larger than their peckers."

The Lords looked to me for an explanation.

I thought for a moment on how to reply. I looked at the Smalljon, confident, the Lord Commander gritting his teeth and Lord Wull, solemn. I was never more thankful that they couldn't understand what Hidden path was talking about.

But despite this there was something that needed to be broached. "Would we be able to come through?"

"Boy," Lord Wull said, "you could have come up with a thousand wildlings and just one Child of the Forest. We would have still let you through. By the Gods we would have let you through. We would have been watchful of the wildlings, some of them would have been turned back, others executed. But you have bought our Gods back to us. A hearth for you will forever be kept warm by Clan Wull."

"And House Umber."

"And The Watch." Jeor Mormont finished. "Though if you have any magics or supplies that could help us we would be very grateful. There are stories of The Watch being gifted weapons and supplies, it would do much for our men to see that they were true."

Magics? I thought of what I had seen the Children accomplish. The stone grenades were the only thing that came to mind. The only other magic I had seen was the magic of the Weirwood and the Wargs, though the only Children of the Forest that knew how to do such were the ones from Leaf's tribe.

Then I remembered, I had a Pokémon that could turn into all the other Pokémon. How did I forget that? It wasn't doing much right now and the Watch had mostly lost their interest in the Giant outside. But there was surely something that I could bring to help The Watch. Some discrete healing frim Chansey?

"We'll help where we can." I replied to the Lord Commander's request. He nodded in what I thought was thanks. "As for room, we will be able to make camp outside if you lack the room."

"We would be bad hosts if we forced you to make camp." The Lord Commander replied.

We then spent a moment discussing sleeping arrangements, eventually agreeing that the caravan would either house themselves in the abandoned parts of Castle Black or outside, but separate from The Watch so as to keep tensions low.

"I hope you will remember our aid, the Watch has been dwindling. But with your support I hope it can rise again." He smiled, "Smalljon had some of it right. Perhaps the False Dawn was not as false as the men say."

I thought back to that night. The fire, the ice. My mind being invaded from all corners. My body turned into a walking corpse. The Divine intervention saving me, saving all of us.

"There is something you need to know about that."

"Oh?" The Lord Commander replied.

"The reason we are here." They all looked at me curiously. The room filled with a silence and my words grew quieter with it. "We were running."

I looked at them all in the eyes and though I spoke softly there was no doubt that they had heard every word I said in that moment.

"It may be soon, it may be later. But it will happen. The Others march south with their army. The Long Night is coming."


	20. Chapter 20 - In a Hall

_Chapter 20 – In a Hall._

The meeting involved a lot of talking, shouting and a long period of silent contemplation as the humans tried to come to terms with the oncoming apocalypse. For a moment, they were ready to say things like "impossible!" only to then glance at the living legend sitting at the table with them. After that, the meeting came to an end and things were, for the ones not involved in the negotiations rather boring.

Hidden Path was given the chance to go out and have a piss and eat some human food. Though the piss was hard with the humans watching and the food tasted odd on his inhuman tongue.

They then moved on to bring everyone south of The Wall… which was a nice achievement. Though the humans on the south were all rather strange. For one thing, they all wore black so it was rather hard to tell the difference between any of them. They all looked the same!

And it got worse when some of the humans from the north of The Wall started to argue with some of the humans in black. Everyone was looking at him to do something, as if he could do anything. He wasn't half the size of a human!

And despite the rumours _he_ was not the one to gouge out the eyes of the human warg that had spoken of taking the creature.

Of course, Hidden Path then had the idea to poke a giant, literally. Point at the humans and have everything sorted out with a smack that sent the lot to the ground.

The humans were a little angry about this, but then Thored came over to find out what was going on and in that familiar frustrated way of his, got everyone to shut the hell up with his presence and a frown that could break stone.

Thinking back on their journey, if there was one thing that was interesting in hindsight it was the way their new Elder had grown to be a leader. It wasn't very noticeable thing but whenever he came around he would give you a look that made you feel like the biggest fool and made you stop doing whatever stupid thing you were doing.

Hidden Path suspected it had something to do with putting up with the screeching harpies that used to shadow him, namely Nails and Willow. He was not ashamed to say that he glad that they were gone, and whilst they wouldn't say it out loud, he was sure that the others were as well. Sometimes you must cut out the dead wood. He remembered that lesson well from all those in the past that walked out into the snow… never to return.

They were given a tower to stay in. One on the far side of the castle and they took to quickly making it habitable for themselves. The Giants had nowhere big enough for them so Thored got to digging up a large pit with a giant mole like creature and then lining the top with logs felled by the Giants from the north side of The Wall. The result was a Great Hall. One where they all spent the evening feasting and dancing.

Their first meal on the south side of The Wall.

One where they may be able to rebuild.

But Hidden Path had his own plans. Something that had been on his mind for a small amount of time.

A female that had caught his eye.

He walked up to her, sitting in the corner of the hall with her companion. A part of him flinched, she hadn't spoken to anyone in the tribe. Not that he remembered, not even once. How would she respond?

No. He couldn't have any doubt. "Confidence." Thored said. That was what he had to do. There was no Elder to make mating pairs anymore and Thored didn't look too excited in taking up the role himself, instead letting singers go with whoever they wanted.

Hidden Path wanted one particular person. One of the singers sent by Leaf to escort them.

They had kept themselves separate from everyone else, something that was understandable given the language issue but to never try and learn?

He knew they were a pair with personalities that would bring little joy. But they were very good looking. Enough to make him take escort duty from the back just so that he could stare at them.

"Confidence." Thored said. He stood in front of them. Staring at the one that _he_ wanted.

He noticed that everyone in the hall around him had fallen silent. They were most likely staring at him.

Confidence.

The humans worshiped him. With this act, he would give them a reason to worship him. The first in their tribe to pick a woman on his own and not be banished!

"You." He said. At the one he wanted. Using the precise words that Thored told him to use. "Fuck me now."

There was only silence.

The two of them looked confused. Didn't they understand him.

The rational part of him wanted to run away.

But he told himself he would be confident. He would not run away.

"You" he said pointing at her. "Me" he pointed to himself. He took a second to wonder how the next few words could be translated. "Rut" he said pointing at his crotch.

She looked at him in the eyes. Hers were as wide open like a deer staring down a direwolf.

Didn't she understand?

He looked at her companion who had a wide grin. _She_ must have understood.

Behind him he heard a "Pffft" as someone held in their laughter. It sounded like Thored. Whoever it was, was a cunt.

She looked him in the eyes and nodded. His tension vanished, a warm glow filled his chest. The laughter abruptly stopped.

Thored, you are an avatar of the Gods.

She grabbed his hand. He could feel how soft hers were against his rough palm. She led him away from the hall. He could see the looks of shock all around. He could only grin.

When they were far enough away she took out two wrapped leaves from the pouch on her hip. He looked at them in confusion. She opened them up to show a dark red powder in each.

"Water" she said haltingly, as if testing out the language. Hidden Path felt confusion well up inside. What did water have to do with it. "Mix. Drink." She handed him one, "for burning." Then the other, "for small size." She looked at him with a serious expression. "Good luck."

She walked away, back to the group.

He stood alone, unsatisfied and very, very confused.

What did she mean 'small size?'

Did she prefer humans? Giants?

And 'burning?'

Maybe he was lucky that she walked away?

The next morning he walked up to their leader.

"You are, a evil human." Hidden Path spat.

"I didn't think you would take it seriously!" Thored exclaimed, though his grin suggested otherwise.

"Yes you did!"

"Didn't it work?" he replied, grinning.

"I don't know!" Hidden Path responded. Shaking his head "I'm just confused. If this is how humans work… I'm never sleeping with a human."

"I doubt you could try."

"I could try." Hidden Path snipped.

"You would fail." Thored responded lightly.

For a moment, there was silence between the two and Hidden Path found it hard to imagine the change that had taken hold their leader. There were small jokes before, but they tended to have a cold bite to them. After the meeting, however it seemed as if a thaw had overcome his personality.

"Are you glad to be home?" Hidden Path asked.

Thored looked confused for a moment before he realised what Hidden Path meant. "This isn't my home," he said shaking his head.

"But," Hidden Path began, but stopped, wondering how to put his thoughts into words. He couldn't remember the last time that their new Elder had looked so relaxed, if ever. No, wait. There was one day, at the start. When his beast was playing with the young in the burrow. Back before they had even left their old home and seen horrors and wonders that he couldn't have even dreamt about. "You haven't looked this happy for a very long time."

"Heh." Thored grinned, "Why wouldn't I? I've warned the Watch. You guys are safe and I can start looking for a way to my home when you all settle down."

"Hidden Path felt confused for a moment before the realisation came to him." You're leaving?"

"Well… yes? I did say that I would just escort you all south."

"You can't leave us." He replied simply.

"Why not?" Thored looked confused.

" _You_ are our Elder."

He didn't look impressed with the answer. "I'm sure you can find another."

"We can't."

"And why not?"

"Because…" Hidden Path tried to explain it, but found that he couldn't. There was no way to explain such things? Things that are as true as the sun in the sky or the ground under your feet. "We would be lost without you. Who would be the Elder when you leave? Who would- Everyone would be … _Urgh_! Please, _please_ don't- Just stay."

Thored looked at him for a moment then sighed in exasperation, " _Fine_. I'll give some help, but I can't be with you all the time. You will have to take up some responsibility." Hidden Path didn't want this, not for a moment. Every nerve of his body told him to step away. But he loved his tribe, and for them he would make this sacrifice. "You are our Elder, if you want me to… I will."

A moment passed. "So, if I told you to go up to that girl again and ask for more powder?" Thored grinned slightly.

"I'll put some of that burning powder in your drink." Was the firm response.

"Okay then. I have no idea how we'll go forward, but I guess I'll make it up as I go along. You've seen how it's worked so far."

Hidden Path grimaced, "badly."

"Huh?"

"It ended with all of us dying, and Willow and Root swallowed by the Gods." Thored looked as if he was frozen, mouth slightly agape as he thought of what to say next.

"And you still want me to be your Elder? All of you?"

"Yes" Hidden Path said simply, "if it was anyone else, we all would be dead right now. It can only be you." Thored was shaking his head in disbelief. Though the small smile on his face suggested that he wasn't completely against the idea.

A moment passed, then Thored turned his head south and focused his eyes though Hidden Path could see nothing. He saw a small, lone cloud above them and knew that it was the creature in another form.

"What is it."

"We will have visitors soon." Came the solemn response.

"Visitors?" Hidden Path asked. What was so important about these visitors compared to the ones that they had just met?

"From the banners I would say… Lord Stark… and Lord Bolton. The ones who decide our future."

The warmth that was there had vanished. "So," Hidden Path said, looking at the expression on Thored's face and coming to the most reasonable conclusion that he could, "I take it they're cunts?"


	21. Chapter 21 – The Negotiator

_Chapter 21 – The Negotiator._

I decided to keep ourselves to ourselves when the visiting party came in to Castle Black. No need to shock them just yet. Though even then the Giants and the Wildlings were noticed by the Stark and Bolton men as they came within the walls.

Sneaking around as a Ghastly was helpful to find out the reactions of our new guests and to say that Lord Stark was not happy about the new events in the North. Events that had happened without his permission would be an understatement. Though Lord Bolton was quite curious about the Giants.

It only got worse when the Smalljon blurted out that nothing could be done about it as he Mormont and Wull had already given permission to the group to venture south. At that moment, I can say without much exaggeration that Eddard Stark's glare had turned to ice.

Lord Bolton's cutting remarks about duty did not help to lighten the situation.

Having noticed the escalating tensions the Lord Commander took the moment to step in and explain that Giants and Wildlings were not the only thing to pass into the Seven Kingdoms.

He told Lord Stark about the Children of the Forest. After a moment of disbelief Lord Stark said that if they were there then he would meet with them immediately.

Mew rushed back and we set to making the Hall we made look nice. I blasted out aromatherapy, cut out some skylights from the roof, lit some lamps, made a stone table in the centre and stools for chairs with liberal use of ground and rock type abilities.

The Children of the Forest were all directed inside whilst the Giants and Wildlings were asked to wait outside for our guests.

I had tried to set everything up so that we would look somewhat impressive when the great reveal came. It had worked when meeting the Nights Watch and I was hoping that it would work a second time to provide us with some concessions from the other Northern Lords.

Soon enough there was a knock on the door. One of the men of the watch came in and asked if I could come out with one of the Children of the Forest to greet and escort Lord Stark and Bolton.

I looked at Hidden Path and translated the message.

"Do I have to," he asked. "I mean, I'll do it. But I'm sure that there's someone else here that you could ask." I looked around. There really wasn't anyone who I knew well enough.

Someone stepped forward and I recognised that it was the one that Hidden Path had tried to talk to the night before.

"There will be a lot of talking, and you may not understand what is being said. Are you willing to do this?" I asked her.

She nodded. "It's why I am here. I would be ashamed if I did not take the chance to help guide our people into the future."

I raised my eyebrow. I never did talk to them much about what Leaf had said to them about their journey with me and what responsibilities they would hold. "What's your name?"

"Sunbeam!" She smiled widely. She was shaking with energy.

I looked back at the brother of the Nights Watch waiting at the door and told him we were coming.

As we began to make our way out I looked at Sunbeam. "Remember to not offend these people. They are some of the most powerful people on the planet." She nodded her head. "Are you ready?"

"Yup!" she chirped. I hoped that she wasn't a case of someone that takes on the attributes of their names.

"What you did last night was pretty funny." I said shifting the conversation slightly.

"Why would it be funny?" She asked frowning a little in confusion, "Diseases down there are a horrible issue to have." Then she looked happy again, "I'm just glad I can finally help one of my lost cousins. They always go to you and you use your creature's abilities to cure everything that goes wrong and no one wants to talk to me! Do you know how hard it is to learn a language when no one wants to talk to you in it?" She babbled as I remained silent.

Of all the responses I expected, that was one that I didn't predict.

I wondered if it was too late to ask for Hidden Path to come with me but by then my legs had already taken me outside. No turning back now.

Giants flanked me on either side. Further up ahead stood the Wildlings. They had formed up in some sort of living wall between the Hall and the Northern Lords. The head of which, Eddard Stark looked displeased at being stopped where he was. But did not seem willing to push the issue with a pack of giants before him.

Then he saw me, and the living legend besides me.

I felt in that moment the sensation of changing another man's entire worldview. Something I had done before, many times with all the 'legends' I had by my side. It was a feeling that I believed I would never grow sick of. I could see it in his face, though the reaction was much more subdued than that of the Watch. Shocked silence fell over the new arrivals. Eddard Stark's glacial expression softened, his eyes widened, then his jaw opened itself slightly in astonishment. He blinked. He remembered where he was and then the blank, icy mask retuned.

Sunbeam and I walked forward though I kept my pace slow so that Sunbeam could keep up.

Eventually we stood in front of the Lords of the North. I heard a thump behind me and knew that Han Gar had my back.

I was about to speak but was cut off, "Greetings, Lords of Men." she said fluently in the language of the Westerosi. "My name is Sunbeam that Pierces the Darkness, one of the last of those you call the Children of the Forest." I fell silent in surprise. When did she learn Westerosi? "You may call me Sunbeam!" She smiled. The Lords of the North Introduced themselves to her.

"Lady Sunbeam. I am Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. This Is Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, and I believe you know of my companions. In the name of King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, I would like to welcome you and all your people to the Seven Kingdoms."

She smiled, "I and my companions are glad for the hospitality that the Nights Watch and your fellow Lords have shown us. You show your ancestors honour. This" she pointed to me, "is Thored. He has been our loyal guide and protector on our journey. We have chosen for him to speak on our behalf." The Northern Lords looked at me with piercing looks. The ones that I had spoken to previously with a look that was much more piercing than those of Lords Stark and Bolton. Probably wondering why Hidden Path couldn't speak to them before.

"Lord Thored" Eddard Stark began looking me in the eyes and freezing me in place with his piercing glare, "It is an honour."

"Indeed," Roose Bolton began, only now intervening in our conversation. "Though I am curious as to which land would be so great as to produce a Lord such as yourself. One who has brought legends back to life. I would call you are a legend yourself for this." I saw the Smalljon and Lord Wull give him curious looks.

I took a breath and shrugged "I'm not a Lord, and I'm not from Westeros. Thored's not even my actual name." I grinned, "the Giants gave it to me." I shook my head. "But I'm sure you don't want to know about that. Would you like to come inside?" I motioned to the newly built hall behind me.

Lord Stark nodded. "We would." And so we made our way back into the Hall where everyone waited. The Giants and Wildlings parting before us so that the Northern Lords and their men could follow me.

I glanced at Sunbeam as she skipped besides me with a wide smile. "You seem very excited?"

"Why wouldn't I be! This is amazing! I'm talking to humans. Human-Humans. Not that you're not human. But this is _the_ Lord Stark!" She said in a rush, arms waving around excitedly as she spoke. "Just like in the legends. His ancestor helped to build The Wall!" I felt as if I should have been the excited one here.

"When did you learn Westerosi?" I asked.

She grinned, "You might help your tribe with their health but you haven't gotten around to helping the men in black. So I've been helping, and learning their language! Do you have any idea how many words they have for sexual organs around here?"

I shook my head and felt glad that what we had just spoken had been in the language of her tribe. The people behind me would reassess their views on the Children of the Forest if they could understand us.

I opened the door and bid them all inside. "There's more than enough room for all of you."

Lord Stark walked in first, despite one of his men willing to go first to ensure the room was safe.

He and the others stepped inside.

I heard the northmen gasp. Some uttered prayers.

I grinned.

Just as planned.

Now… _now_ we negotiate.

I moved into the hall, past the Lords and I sat down at the stone table I had made, "Lords If you would like to sit down and talk?" They all moved to sit on the other side of the table once their shock wore away.

I began to speak when Hidden Path walked out of the room. "I suggest you all go out for some fresh air." He said to the rest of the tribe. "This will probably last the whole day." A few of the Children of the Forest left the hall behind him, though a significant number stayed to watch. Sunbeam came and sat next to me. I heard thumping as Han Gar stomped into the room, shocking the Men at arms to grip their swords. He did not react but to walk around them and take his seat by my other side.

"Lord Stark," I began, taking their attention from the giant by my side "I take it you know why we are here."

"Yes," he began. "I have heard… interesting things. Though there is one thing that I must hear it from yourself. To know that it is true."

"The Long Night is coming." I said gravely. "We don't know when they will reach The Wall but the Others have returned to the world of the living. Along with their army of the dead."

Lord Stark looked as if a heavy weight was put on his shoulders. His body slumped, his breathing grew heavy. "Are you certain." Lord Bolton interrupted. Looking at me with piercing eyes.

"Yes."

"How quickly do you _think_ they will arrive? What does their strength look like?" He prodded.

"I do not know. You would do best to scout out the wildling tribes. They will have a better idea of the situation."

"And how would you advise that we face this threat." He said with a raised eyebrow.

"Gather support from the south. Support the Watch." I nodded to Jeor Mormont. "They are weak to dragonglass, Valyrian Steel and fire."

"Truly?" Lord Stark said. "Valyrian Steel will be difficult to find. But dragonglass is near worthless in the Seven Kingdoms. That is something we can do."

"And what of yourselves?" Lord Bolton enquired. "What do the Children of the Forest wish? And the Giants, what do they want? Yourself?" he continued before I could interrupt, "I would give you all, lands near the Dreadfort should you wish it. We shall treat you as honoured guests, and revere you as legends. Should you not wish to stay at the Wall."

"The Wall will need their support." Jeor Mormont said. "There is no one better than the Children of the Forest to help men stop the Long Night once more. Should the Lords of Westeros offer us supplies to support them, we will be happy to accommodate them."

"I am sure that they would prefer somewhere warmer Lord Commander." Lord Bolton sniped.

"House Umber and Wull have also made offers of hosting our guests." The Lord Commander replied unflinchingly. "Houses that are legendary in their hospitality. The Watch has empty land on the New Gift that we shall give to you to live on, in exchange for your support.

"My Lords." Lord Stark spoke up, silencing those around him. "Long ago the first men and the Children of the Forest made a pact. To them would go the deep wood. Whilst I can not honour all the oaths that have been made, I can make a start. House Stark will gift you a large portion of the Wolfswood. As is your right. If you wish to stay there or take up another offer is your decision, though with your presence near Winterfell it would be easier for us to coordinate with the south."

I was silent for a moment. Thinking about the offers that were made. I had come in to the meeting thinking that I would need to negotiate heavily to get offers such as these.

All had advantages. The Watch would allow us to keep Westeros safe and help to ferry the wildlings south, but I wasn't too excited on doing that. House Bolton would put me closer to Essos and the Free Cities, but they were House Bolton. The Wolfswood was interesting and seemed like the best option. But if the events of the books came to pass without me being able to stop them. Then it would be a very dangerous place to be.

Though, ultimately, I was not the one who would be impacted the most by the decision.

I turned to Sunbeam. "What do you think."

She looked thoughtful and replied, "I have lived for many years and have learnt things about the world that you could never imagine." She looked wiser than she ever had before, her previous energy washed away. "But I have no idea where any of those places are."

I sighed. This would take some time.


	22. Chapter 22 - Bran I

_Thoughts: Leaf_

Leaf looked at her tribe and wondered who would be the best fit for the journey down south. They were all old, weary and worn, going about the last of their days with the same routine that they had undertaken three hundred years ago when they were already a dead race to most of the world. Wise to the nature of man and the world. Resigned and pessimistic about the future. Placing their final shred hope on the life after death. But looking at this new tribe...

She couldn't recall seeing her people so... young. So accepting of new things, so willing to forget and change. So willing to... _Gods_. What made them like this? What made them so  naive! The one that called himself the Elder was not a kind being. He was a monster. He was-

Or was it the human? His beast? Their protection?

Even those few times she looked into the memories in the roots she could not have imagined her people so young. Those days of her own youth when she ventured into the lands of the Dragon were filled with danger and caution, fear and dread. She was wise as to the ways of the world. Wise, back then to the inevitable fate of her people.

She did not feel nearly as wise now. Not when she did not notice the bones littering the floor of her home. No, she did notice. She didn't _care_. Not when they were all doomed to die regardless.

She could not think of many in her tribe that would go well on this journey to the south. Many had already lost all hope, some even ceasing to speak. Further, the novelty of meeting another tribe would quickly turn to frustration brought about by clashing cultures. The memories in the roots had played out that scene more times than she could count. The hopeless are either turned hopeful by, to grow to despise the naive.

But there were some. Some of her own tribe with bright personalities. Attitudes that were willing to take on the world and all it may hold. To see and discover. To lead and learn and teach.

Members of her tribe that were stifled in this cave. Ones who's stay she could no longer justify on the grounds of their safety. Not when there was another option available.

She knew then, who of her tribe would be best for the journey south.

But not everyone could grow. If this was going to be a journey to help her people grow again. To revive her species... then those who had already lost their hearts to the God's would have to hold their home and if necessary, make the ultimate sacrifice. So that others would be safe.

"Sunbeam," she called.

"Yes!"

"How would you like to go on an adventure?"

They called it the False Dawn in the south. For her, the dawn was very, _very_ real.

Or at least she hoped.

* * *

 _Chapter 22 – Bran I._

The day had broken clear and cold. But Winterfell had been anything but. The Keep had been filled, Winter Town too was filled with more people then Bran could ever remember seeing. The camps that had been made in the fields to the north of Winterfell's walls made him look in awe. It felt as if the whole world had come to his home.

It all began with the ravens. The ravens had flown from Castle Black to every keep in The North with a Maester in it. The Seal of The Night's Watch and his father, Lord Stark on each message they bore.

 _'The Children of the Forest have returned to Westeros. We shall be at Winterfell.'_

The news spread across Winterfell like fire, and he felt as if it had spread across Westeros in much the same way. The Godswood was full every day and night, the ancient silence replaced by the prayers of the faithful.

The Sept, as always held only his mother, sister, the Septon and the Septa. Though even they had ventured into the Godswood once or twice. Maester Luwin was much more sceptical, always stating to he and his sibling of 'if' these beings were the actual Children of the Forest of myth and not some form of pygmy. Neither he nor his siblings had spoken of the time they saw the Maester go to the Godswood and look at the Heart Tree as if it was a puzzle to be solved.

Over the days more and more Lords of the North had arrived alongside their households. Karstark and Mormont. Tallhart, Flint and Ryswell. Each with bright banners and joyous Lords and Ladies. The Reeds came with their frog spears, as did the Manderly's with their fat lord and Knights. With them all came great processions. Pilgrims, his mother called them. Something that was familiar in the south when the faithful made marches to the holy sites of The Seven.

This all had the effect of filling Winterfell and its surrounding town to the brim. Their home too small to deal with the numbers that had come. His mother had never looked so pressured, sometimes snapping at he and his siblings for any imagined fault, Jon and Arya especially. Jon had even ceased breaking fast with them.

Though for all that, Bran felt that these were the days that he would remember for the rest of his life. The castle was always full. The men training the yard bore dozens of sigils between them and were always willing to aid him in archery and swordplay. The Reeds took pleasure in showing him their Lizardlion skins and blowpipes. The Lady Manderly with green hair basked in the attentions of Robb and Theon. The Karstark girl found a friendship with Sansa. The Mormont warrior women that looked to Bran more similar to the bear of their sigil then his mother, had Arya chasing them in the day and speaking of them in reverence in the evening. Even Jon had taken to spending time with the Bolton bastard.

He had at first taken to listening to the stories of the Manderly knights. Of their journeys, their oaths and adventures. He had then taken to listening to the other northern warriors and seeing how even those without oaths to the Seven had wondrous stories. The Reeds spoke of their moving keep, of the perilous marshes and of Lizardlion hunts. The Mormonts spoke of the frozen shore and the sleds made of whale bones pulled by Snowbears. Even the Clans of Skagos where no Maesters lived had sent an envoy that appeared as barbaric as the stories had made them out to be, but they were also awe inspiring to watch in their brutal spars in a way that the Manderly knights could never measure up to.

He couldn't remember the last time that he had climbed the towers of Winterfell, perhaps that time he saw the tents stretching out into the distance, but even that was some time ago. By now, with all the new guests he was sure that the sight would be even more mighty. But he did not see any interest in climbing. Not with all that was happening on the ground. The sights, the sounds, the wondrous foods and colours that changed Winterfell into a hive of activity the likes of which neither he nor any of the others he had spoken to had ever mention seeing in their lifetimes.

And today was the day that the outriders had said that the guests of honour were due to arrive. The Children of the Forest, the fabled Giants that stood at twice the height of a man, his father, Lords Umber, Bolton and Wull as well as the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch.

They stood together as a family at the end of the route they were set to take along with the Lords and Ladies of the other houses. All the smallfolk had come out with their families, their young, their elderly. They had bought flowers and odd trinkets to presumably gift and be blessed by the Children of the Forest.

When they did come into view, it was everything he had imagined and more. The Giants stood taller than any man, covered in shaggy furs with wide, flat feet and prominent brows that hid their eyes. Their arms looked strong enough to snap him in half. The Wildlings that came with them terrified him, and many of the northern men kept a wary eye on them. Something he felt needed to be done for a people that Old Nan said drank blood, killed and raped and bargained with dark powers.

Then came the Children, each one as small as he was. Deer-like and alien. As different to him as the giants were. They were mounted on a mix of wondrous beasts. Snowbears and Direwolves like the stories of Old Nan. Deer and Elk and even some Shadowcats. They were garlanded with flowers of a thousand colours and gifted with gifts of gold and silver and amber and wood from the smallfolk they would have met on the path to Winterfell.

Behind them he saw his father and squashed the urge to run up to him. By his side rode the Lord Commander in black, Lord Bolton with his pale skin and a man that looked as different from all the northern men as the Children did to the Giants. He rode on a Unicorn, for there was no other way to describe the animal. Its fur pure white, like snow with a horn atop its head, though it oddly had no mane or tail. He wore Snowbear furs and seemed to be content in speaking with the most powerful men in the north as if they were equals.

His father came to them and greeted them. He then introduced their guests. The Giants led by the one Giant in grey and silver fur. The Wildlings who came with them and the Children of the Forest. Sunbeam who looked overjoyed and Hidden Path that looked frustrated to his eyes. Finally, was Lord Thored who has escorted and protected all these creatures of legend on their journey to The Wall.

His mother did not look too pleased, and looked like she wanted to be somewhere else. He and from what he could see, Arya on the other hand were bursting with excitement.

He spoke to all the Northern Lords gathered of Lord Thored who would speak on behalf of the Children.

He spoke of the gifts that had been offered as per the pact of old. The Wolfswood, though some of it would remain with House Glover. And of the other gifts of lands that were given by the other Lords.

Then the Lords assembled all made their own offers for lands. The Karstarks offered the deep woodland in their own lands. The Reeds offered them portions of the marshes. The Hornwoods, the Mormonts, the Skagosi and every house also made offers for land and treasure, even Lord Manderly who must have had a difficult journey to Winterfell given his size and reluctance given his faith offered them all a place by his fire till the end of days.

Then his Lord father said that a deal had been made. A Keep would be made by the Children deep in the Wolfswood to the disappointment of many Lords. Though a concession was also offered, a handful of the Children of the Forest would stay in the Godswood of every major Northern house, as well as a few smaller ones so that no one house would be slighted.

Bran thought it was a good idea. As nice as the people were, he didn't know if they would be able to keep them at Winterfell forever. His mother would tell them of her worries about food and supplies each morning when they broke their fast.

Then he noticed something strange.

People, High Lords and Smallfolk were kneeling and bowing. He felt for a moment as if he should do the same. He tried to do so but was pulled back up by his mother.

He was glad that he was looking up when he saw what happened next. One of the Children of the Forest came forward with a small crystal in her hands. For a second everything was silent but then bright rays of light burst out of the object. Silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. From the rays of light came birds and beasts and fish flying through the air, each of them made of lights of a hundred colours. Each one weaving through the crowd of people. When one came to him he tried to touch it only to have his hand go through.

Then the light and the animals were gone. He didn't need to bow, though he felt he should have. Instead he cheered with everyone else. If felt in that moment as if nothing could go wrong with the world.

The night was filled with feasting and revelry that extended far beyond the walls of Winterfell. The tables were filled with Skagosi broths full of honey and whale meats, of Essosi spices of cinnamon and cloves, of Lemons from Dorne and the roasted red meat of a boar slain in the Wolfswood.

The wildlings that he had so feared had bought songs that had all of Winterfell singing along till the words echoed in his bones. Songs of Seeing Fire of Northern Mead, Dancing in the Moonlight and of a Stairway to the Heavens. Even his mother was smiling.

He had managed to touch a Direwolf that night and thought himself the bravest boy in Winterfell. Then the Karstark boy had bought him to the Unicorn and it touched him! One of the Children came up to him, riding a majestic and graceful deer as her mount. She smiled at him and spoke in a language he didn't understand. But a language he felt he could listen to forever, a language of dreams, a language that was alive as dreams were alive. Then she left and he woke, only to be bought back into the long magical night by the sights and sounds that bought Winterfell to life.

That night he went to bed and collapsed in exhaustion, regretful only that he had not been able to ride on a giant like Arya had.

The next day began with things seemingly return to normal. Or at least as normal as they could be in this new world filled with magic and legends bought to life.

That ended when he was bought by his father with his mother and older brothers, along with all the Lords of the North to a meeting in the Great Hall. They spoke of building a navy. The Manderly's and Flint's taking charge and being allowed to buy ships from the Iron Islands and Bravos if necessary. Road projects, food stores, the provision of arms and armour were also topics that made Bran wish he had been allowed to stay asleep.

Then his father gave the reason for all of this talk of supplies and weapons. The reason that the Children of the Forest had come south with the Giants.

The Others were on the move south. The Long Night would begin again.

The day passed in a blur after the revelation. Nothing else really seemed to matter, as he and all the others tried to come to terms with the idea of the Others coming south. The idea that their time would be a time so dark and evil that even the stories of the Long Night from Old Nan kept him awake at night. The thought that those times would return sent a shiver through his soul. And from what he could see, the spirits of all the others who knew.

That evening a raven came into Winterfell.

The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn was dead. The King was coming to Winterfell.

* * *

 **Current Situation (Chapter 22):**

107 Children of the Forest - Riding 40 Great Elk/Deer, 10 Direwolves 6 Shadow Cat's, 3 Horses and 2 Snow Bears  
24 'Young' Children of the Forest - Riding with parents  
6 Direwolf Riders - Currently warging 3 to 4 Direwolves each (21 Direwolves)  
Total: 137 Children of the Forest, 82 mounts

20 Giants with 3 Young Giants

60 Wildlings with 20 children - 6 goats and seven dogs

1 Self Insert - 1 Mew

Food situation - Near empty.

Total: 241 'people' - 96 animals


	23. Chapter 23 - The False Knight

_Chapter 23 – The False Knight._

We sat a few hills away from Winterfell. Some Umber guards that we had grown familiar with were tasked with keeping others away from the general area so that we could speak in relative peace. The whole of our caravan was present, even the animals. The Giants, the Children of the Forest and the Wildlings, all mixed together. All with a small meal of bread and soup, or cabbage for the Giants, as breakfast. A large stone table in the middle of our group.

I was dressed in armour that I had stolen from the Nights Watch, painted grey and blue and altered so that it looked different. Something that I regret taking, given the response from the North, if I asked they probably would have given me something better. But at the time I was waiting for the inevitable betrayal to come and felt better with taking some actual equipment. Now it was a little to late to go back and undo things… A situation that I had grown familiar with.

"So this is the situation." I explained to all those around me. "We're going to make our homes in the forest west of here." I looked down at the table in front of me. Made of stone lifted by Golem and painted by a Smeargle with a crude map of the north. In the middle of the map was Winterfell and to its side, a patch of forest painted green. "We don't have the whole forest." I continued and looked around at every member of our original caravan surrounding me. "The northern tips of the forest go to Houses Glover and Harclay, a large part the east to House Forrester and smaller parts of the south to Houses Condon, Cerwyn and Tallhart. A large chunk of the east will stay with the Starks."

Smeargle painted the part of the forest that would be ours and I continued. "It is still a lot of land. We have access to two major rivers. One that goes through Tallhart lands in the Rills to the Sunset Sea, the other is the source of the White Knife river that passes through to White Harbour and the Narrow Sea." Looking around me the news didn't seem to effect anyone to a great degree.

The fact was that the gift of land given to us by Lord Stark was massive. I tried to calculate its size and guessed at it being around the size of Ireland. More than that all the people that lived in the Wolfswood would be under my command, my justice, my protection. Something I was more than a little worried about.

Lord Stark had also not asked us to give any oaths of fealty to him or the King strangely enough, making me, in effect a small King of my own. Though I was not going to present myself as such. The gift Lord Stark had given was not one that was without some cunning on the part of Lord Stark. We were surrounded on all sides by houses loyal to him with no access to the sea that could not be easily intercepted. We were near to Winterfell so that he could easily keep in contact or move his forces. The land itself was not particularly valuable, being a forest with few, if any people living in it, despite its size.

"What about the big guys?" Hidden Path asked from my side. "They tend to stay out in the plains and the mountains. Forests are too thick for them to move around." He had grown much more fluent in the Old Tongue as did all the others when we had passed the Wall where food was plentiful as was time to learn and live.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes" Han Gar nodded. "First need Mammoth, herds move in grass." Wait, what?

I blinked. Last I checked we didn't bring any mammoths south of The Wall. "I'm not sure where we'd get mammoth's from. I could talk to the Night's Watch. We do have some grasslands in the middle the Wolfswood. From what Lord Stark tells me, the trees apparently thin out over there. It should be fit for you to live there. Though we may have to finally split up our group if the Singers wish to stay in the deep wood."

Silence reigned around the table. The Children looked distraught at the thought, the Giant's looked nervous.

"Hey! We all knew this would happen!" Hidden Path interrupted.

"Why?" One of the other Children said. River was her name.

"We are to go to the wood and they can not follow us there. They will stay in the plains because they can not come into the wood." He stated simply.

"How long did you know this?" I asked.

"For some time. But it is the way things were always meant to be. Our place was always meant to be in the wood as the Elder told us."

"Why?" another Child of the Forest said. I think his name was Evergreen. "Man and Giant was supposed to be our foes. But we have survived together. Seen things that we have never thought of. _Become_ something new."

"Yes!" River interrupted. " _They_ are our tribe now. We can not split up! If staying together means that we don't live in the deep wood and instead, in the plains then I will do it."

There was a murmur of agreement from the Children of the Forest. Several of them also voiced their agreement, Hidden Path looked shocked then grinned at Han Gar, "Looks like you will have to put up with us a little longer."

"So!" I interrupted. "It looks like our home will be in the less forested part in the heart of the Wolfswood and that we will all stay together. Any objections to that?" For a moment, no one spoke. Then Sunbeam made herself be known.

"I do not object to this but…" she paused, "do you not know of our histories? Of the wars our people waged on one another? The destruction of the Wierwoods by the giants. The mass wargings our ancestors subjected them to?" Silence fell upon our group. The Children had mentioned their 'stories' of the giants being monsters that would crush them and the wildlings had stories of enslaved giants building The Wall.

"Han Gar!" Hidden Path interrupted, "Do you plan on eating us?"

"No" Came the simple answer, "You stink."

"Hah!" Hidden Path barked, "you finally have a sense of humour!"

"No joke. You stink." Everyone laughed but Hidden Path carried on.

"Sunbeam, do you plan on warging them? Any of you shits planning on that?"

"No" came the chorus of voices.

I grinned, thinking of how accepting the Children had become of the Giants, and though the Giants had not said much, their now relaxing posture showed that they too were glad to have known the Children. To think that Leaf had describe the Giants as their bane. Now they were brothers. "Well, there is your answer Sunbeam." An ancient grudge ended today.

"As we speak, Lord Stark is telling the other Lords of the Others and are they planning on how to proceed." I continued.

"Now. About staying together. If any of you caught yesterday's speech by Lord Stark he said that the Singers would be spread out amongst the keeps." There was some uproar. "Now I admit that this was partly my idea, but Lord Stark didn't take the time to explain it in detail. I talked with Lord Stark about that and he should be explaining things to his bannermen right now. It's not going to happen straight away. We have some time to get used to our new home before we have to do any of this."

I looked around me at the group. I had their full attention.

"When we are settled and you all have learnt the language, we will send groups to tour the keeps and then we will have groups stay for a few days and come back after. So we won't be split up." They seemed to accept my explanation.

I looked up to the one group I hadn't mentioned.

"Free Folk!" They looked a little shocked at my call. "I haven't talked to you and I know you don't kneel, I won't ask you to. All I ask is that you don't ruin the opportunity I have given you. You can do what you want amongst yourselves but you can not do so to the people of Westeros."

"What if we don't want to?" a young man asked, only to be slapped by an older woman beside him that I presumed to be his mother.

She gave me a concerned look and I nodded in turn then gave the young boy a stern look. "If you ruin this chance we have at not being turned into Wights, then I will ruin you." I was surprised at how easily those words came out and quickly moved onto the final subject.

"We should be moving tomorrow. Eat some food and feel free rest or to do whatever you want for the rest of the day." I thought on the food and gifts we were given all the way down the Kingsroad from Castle Black, where before we were always skirting near starvation. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."

The group slowly cleared up and went about their day, the Umber guards that kept people out of the meeting were also allowed to relax. The mother of the boy came and offered her apologies for her son and I calmed her down, stating that I had said what I had said to show all the Free Folk that this was the fate they chose when they came south with me. That I would not think lesser of her son for saying what I was sure, many others were thinking. She thanked me and left.

I looked at the map in front of me. I had gotten Sunbeam to tell me of the locations around the world that Leaf told her of. Places where I may be able to find a way home. Some were close, others far away. The Isle of Faces and Oldtown were places on Westeros. On Essos were the forests north of Vaes Dothrak, Asshai and the Shadow that dwells within.

A long list, all things said. Especially with my self imposed responsibilities in Westeros.

At the very least, my use of teleport and fly would get some practice.

Mew transformed into a Rapidash once more and I spent a little effort in extinguishing the flames of its mane and tail. I wondered when someone would finally ask about how my horse grew in size and grew a horn. Or perhaps they would think it a part of the magic of the Children?

I mounted Rapidash and made my way back to Winterfell. Many thoughts on my mind. How I would search the world and protecting the people under my apparent leadership. How we would construct a home and what it would look like. How I would deal with the rest of Westeros.

I passed under the gates of Winterfell, snapping out of my thoughts when I heard someone call my name. He was a slightly chubby boy with thick lips and blotchy skin, dressed in pink, red and black. "Lord Thored!" He said. "It is a pleasure to finally greet you. I was unable to speak with you as you were occupied the last night I Am Ramsay, son of Lord Bolton." I looked at him curiously, he was a lot younger than in the show but not as ugly as the books had made him out to be.

Another boy ran up to him, dressed in black and grey. He had long dark brown hair and dark eyes. "Ramsay where were" He spotted me, "my Lord, I am sorry for interrupting you."

"Now now," Ramsay calmed his companion, "let me introduce Jon Snow, son of Lord Stark."

Jon Snow looked down to the ground and muttered a small "my Lord." I thought of the Jon Snow I knew in the show. It did not capture just how young he was. I wondered how long it would be before this boy would leave Winterfell to go to the Wall. To go beyond it and fight the Others. It sent a shiver through my spine.

"I know your fathers." I said, noticing that they grew uncomfortable with my silence. "Lord Bolton is a very intelligent man and Lord Stark is very honourable."

"He is my Lord." Jon murmured, still not looking me in the eye.

"Is there something on the ground that is more interesting than looking me in the eye Jon Snow?" I asked calmly. His head snapped up in panic and he looked directly at me.

Ramsay came to his defence. "He is only giving you your dues my Lord. He has been taught to do such things."

"I see." I murmured, wondering where this odd friendship came from. "Are your fathers still inside?"

"Yes my Lord." Ramsay replied.

"Have you eaten?" I asked.

"No." Came Jon's reply. "The great hall is taken. The cooks spent the morning preparing for the Lords."

"They should be free by now, you should be able to have something to eat if you go there. I'm going to go to the stables, would you like to show me the way?" They both looked at Rapidash and then drew their eyes to its horn.

"Yes my Lord." Ramsay said once more, "my own horse is a mighty steed named Blood, but we have many formidable mares at the Dreadfort. Should you visit I am sure that you would find your share of the foals to be of great use." I tried to hide my scowl.

"I'm sure they will." I focused on Jon who had kept silent. "You have not spoken much Jon Snow. How have the last few days been for you?"

"Good, my Lord." He still didn't look at my face, turning his head down once more.

"I did not see you by your father when we arrived at Winterfell."

"I am a bastard my Lord," he explained "I would not shame my family, though I saw it all from inside Winterfell."

I looked at him in sympathy, "Even the Smallfolk were outside."

"As you say my Lord." I sighed. What happened to the arrogant boy that challenged Tyrion Lannister? The one that would kill an Other? Was he ever this quiet? Or only told to be such at Lady Stark's command, due to the visiting nobles? I looked at Ramsay who had a curious look about him.

I reached the stables and offered Rapidash to the stable boy who bowed so deeply that I feared his face would hit the ground. The boys had gone ahead of me to the kitchens and I wondered if any of the other Stark children would be different.

Something hit me in my leg and let out an "Ow!" I looked down to see a young girl, maybe ten years old on the ground.

I offered my hand to help her up. "You might want to watch where you're going."

Her scowling face looked up then froze when her eyes met mine. "You're the Unicorn Knight" she whispered.

"The what?" I asked, baffled as I lifted up her shocked form.

"When she saw you she called you her Unicorn Knight, she and all the other girls have been talking about you all morning. But I told Sansa that you can't be a Knight if you come from Beyond The Wall."

"Arya!" someone shouted in the distance. The eyes of the young girl before me widened in panic.

I think just met another Stark. She looked at me and whispered, "hide me." I pointed to the stables and she ran inside. It wasn't long before an irritated teenage girl walked around the corner, I presumed that she was Sansa. Her dress drenched in liquid. She looked at me, her eyes widened in surprise and she ran away.

I laughed, then stopped. In the stables Arya was trying to ride on Rapidash. Nope. That wasn't happening. I went in and tried to distract her. Maybe I could get a tour of Winterfell?


	24. Chapter 24 - The Liars

_Chapter 24 – The Liars._

Maester Aemon walked in the tunnels beneath The Wall wrapped himself in the thickest black cloaks that he could find. The ice cells were far too harsh on his old joints. But he had someone that he needed to see.

The Brother that had guided him to the cells looked at him wearily and asked, "are you sure that you would like to be alone? The Lord Commander told us to be weary before he left and you know what he did to our Brothers."

Maester Aemon nodded. "There are some things I must say to him myself."

The Brother nodded, "If you are sure Maester. I will be down the way, call me and I shall be down in an instant."

Maester Aemon waited a moment till he was sure that he and the person in the ice cell were alone.

"You are beginning to look more like your age." He murmured, gazing at the form of Bloodraven sitting in the middle of the cell. His body withered and bruised, but his eyes as sharp as they had always been."Though most are your age are but bones."

"Why are you here?" he asked simply.

"I wished to see how you were coping," the Maester responded, "for what little I can see these days. I find that my sight comes and goes frequently. I thought I would see you whilst I can."

"And what do you see?" came the spiteful reply, "Your brothers saw fit in beating me and when they were done with that the… _gentle_ amongst them found joy in raping me." Aemon looked into Bloodraven's eyes and saw a deep and unyielding spite in them.

"You killed their brothers. The Watch has burnt down wildling villages for less." He explained.

"I am not a _Wildling_." Bloodraven seethed. "I am the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch. I am the shield that guarded the realm when Daemon came to seize it and I am the shield that helped turn the Watch into something more than a rotting carcass of rape and murder. Though it seems that standards have become lax after I left. They all owe me their worthless lives a hundred times over."

A moment passed in which the Maester remained silent. Staring at the prisoner with curious eyes.

"You killed their Brothers." The Maester said softly. "They believe that you wished to kill me and murder your way out of the Castle. I believe that they are not incorrect in their assumptions. What did you expect to happen to you?"

"Anything but this." Bloodraven replied. "To see you so old, the Watch with a new Lord Commander. Tell me, how many years have passed? Is anyone I know still alive?"

"No" Aemon replied, "And it is worse than you can imagine."

"How could it possibly be worse?"

"House Baratheon holds the Iron Throne"

Bloodraven fell silent for a moment before murmuring, "House Baratheon? Well I suppose that is a little worse. Though not much to worry about, I highly respect House Baratheon's ability to bring ruin unto itself. Are we the last dragons alive?"

"No," the Maester replied, "two have fled into Essos."

"Then how far into chaos has this Baratheon King dragged the realm?"

"The King is loved by his people, and the realm is experiencing the longest summer ever recorded. But that is not what I wished to discuss with you." Aemon explained.

"And what is it you wished to discuss?" Bloodraven asked curiously.

"Ice" he reached into his robes and threw a small orange object at the prisoner, "and fire."

"What is this?" Bloodraven asked picking up the object before realising what it was, "A dragon scale?"

"One I saw, two nights ago." the Maester said, "One I t _ouched,_ two night ago."

A gleam entered Bloodraven's eyes, "Then that means that they are-"

"Alive." The Maester confirmed.

"What was it like?" He asked.

"Enough for me to understand why one would drink wildfire to bring them back to life."

"Oh?" Bloodraven raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were the level headed one."

"I was promised a dragon and I raged at the one who made the offer. All those I loved are dead, what is a dragon to me? But then I saw it. A Dragon, bright orange, like living flame. It was small enough to fit into my room and had an extra pair of arms but it was, certainly a Dragon. And when I saw it, it was as if I was young again back in the Red Keep in King's Landing. I remember when I touched it more clearly then I remember any other moment of my life. I remember feeling every scale, feeling the fire that lay beneath." He took a deep breath, "I remember weeping and knowing, in that moment that dragons are everything to me."

"And where is it now? By your tone you are not its rider, assuming that you are still fit enough to ride it?"

"No, it is gone." He replied. "It flew off to the North, though it was in the black of night and I did not see too clearly."

"As interesting as this all is," Bloodraven said cautiously, "why you are telling me?"

"Because a Targaryen a terrible thing, when we have a goal we wish to achieve. Because, uncle. I know that you shall escape. After all, you are the one that had originally ordered the rebuilding of these cells, the only place we could imprison you. All that I would ask of you is that when it happens, that you do not harm any of my brothers as you do so, regardless of your anger at them."

"Is that it?"

"No. Great and terrible things are a foot. So terrible that you have been left to rot and be forgotten as those in power prepare for them. Many of the rangers have left on rangings, whilst stewards and builders are readying this castle as well as beginning the repairs of others. Something that I am sure that you will use to your advantage when escaping. The nature of these events? I'm sure that you will find out these things in your own time." Maester Aemon took out a roll of bread from his robes and placed it near the bars of the cells and then began to walk away. "Until we meet again."

Bloodraven waited until the Maester had left before he crawled forward on his bruised limbs. He took the loaf of bread and then noticed something underneath it.

He picked it up and noticed the familiar silver colour of the dagger he had recently made great use of, though it seemed to have been reforged into a practical weapon by a blacksmith, most likely by the one at Castle Black.

He took piece of bread into his mouth. Aemon was not wrong in his assumptions. He knew the weak spots in the cells, ones he had made in the case of a mutiny during his term as Lord Commander. Cells that he had ordered because of the simplicity it took for the depleted numbers of the Watch in manning them.

But where to go from there? Aemon clearly had a goal of his own. The long wait till he had come to visit was a clear sign of him making a plan. He did the same when he was younger and it appeared as if some things did not change with age. But what was it that his nephew was planning? What did he have to gain?

This dragon he mentioned must have had something to do with it, but what? Would it be wiser to avoid the machinations of his nephew? Or would it be prudent to follow the smouldering fires in his veins. The ones that wanted to see this Dragon for himself. To ride through the sky as he was meant to.

In the silence of the ice cells Bloodraven planned his next step.

His thoughts filled with ice and fire.

* * *

He opened his eyes to see the cavern all around him. One that he had left very long ago. One that he only remembered in his dreams. Nothing much had changed about it, though some of the bones on the floor had been cleared, he had honestly expected them to neglect clearing even that.

"Root" He heard Nails say as she came over to him, a concerned look on her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Thirsty" he whispered, testing out his new mouth, and then his fingers. It felt good to have a body once more, even if it was a little stiff. He deeply regretted not shifting bodies sooner but two branches of his family tree had to be culled for showing negative physical and mental traits, forcing him to wait in his old body till the new crop had grown to maturity.

"Drink slowly," Nails said, pouring a cup of fresh water in his mouth. His mind idly noting the new taste buds of his body.

He went through the ingrained motions of using a new body. Toes, fingers, sight, breathing, smell. Inhale, exhale, let the heartbeat stabilise.

It was odd to see Nails so caring. Last he knew, she hated everything and everyone. Himself and the former inhabitant of his body especially.

He looked beyond Nails and saw a familiar face. Leaf, the bitch in green. She was looking at him with an odd look. Her hands grasping onto the Weirwood roots embedded into the walls of the cavern. He saw her expression turn into a frown and her eyes narrow.

"Step back Nails" She growled.

Shit.

He grabbed Nail's head in a burst of speed and slammed it against the roots. Blood poured out of the skull as he held her there and she quickly went limp.

"I take it there is no need to keep up the act?" he said with a hoarse whisper, unused to his new vocal chords.

"Abomination." Leaf hissed, "Leave the body and return it to it's rightful owner."

He grinned stiffly, "I _am_ the rightful owner. The previous inhabitant of this vessel has departed for the afterlife. But such is often the result of being stabbed. I am merely here to inhabit this empty vessel, as opposed to letting it go to waste."

"Do you take me for a fool?" She hissed and he saw several Children of the Forest lining the walls, bows and arrows in hand.

"Yes. Yes I do. Or do you honestly wish to harm this body?"

"If the boy is lost to the roots as you have just said, then I see no reason not to just kill you now and stop your madness." She snapped.

"But I know that you would never believe a word I said Leaf. So, are you willing to take that risk?" He grinned.

"Yes." An arrow flew and struck him in the shoulder. The force threw him back and pinned him into the roots.

"I wonder Leaf, where was this fire? This rage? Where was it over the years when our people were dying their slow death?"

"Another" she commanded as a second arrow flew into his thigh.

"And how do you all feel about our slow death?" he asked the Children of the Forest filling the cavern. "Our end as a species? You saw my children as they passed by did you not? Young, curious, loving of life and numerous. Would you rather not be one of them?" He began to rub himself against the roots that encased him. "Or would you prefer to live your pitiful lives sheltered by this _bitch_?"

"Release your hold on the vessel. I give you this one chance to be with the Gods, abomination." Leaf commanded. "You will not have another."

"Abomination, abomination, abomination." He growled before roaring, "You call _me_ the abomination! _I_ am the one who saved our species! _I_ raised and bred and guided them as you bought nothing but rot to your people. A slow death. A dark, silent death in the dirt." He looked at the Children of the Forest around him. Silent and stone faced. "Can any of you call yourselves content with this? Is this the fate that you want! For our once mighty species to pass into myth and silence? Can any of you say that my actions, no mater how horrifying, in the face of _extinction_ were not justified?"

They were all silent. "Well! Do any of you speak?"

Leaf cut her hand with a silver dagger and touched the weirwood roots. "By Blood the way is now shut. Your final moment has ended. Even Godhood is now beyond you."

"No, no, no!" He screamed and then collapsed. Leaf felt confused and slowly approached the body.

As she neared the body she noticed that it was still breathing. Nothing really seemed to be wrong with it.

Her hand went to the dagger on her belt, ready to finish him off but found it missing. Someone screamed behind her. She looked down and saw the dagger piercing her chest. She turned around and saw Nails looking at her with unfamiliar eyes.

"The way is shut." The Elder in Nails's body grinned. "Godhood is now beyond you."

She felt blood dribble down her mouth and a wave of dizziness overtake her.

Root's and Willow's eyes opened simultaneously and they all spoke in unison, "As is the ability to protect your tribe from _this_."

The Children inside the cavern all began to scream as all their minds were simultaneously assaulted by a single, sharp, disorientating mental blast.

Leaf's vision turned to black, as all of her tribe collapsed around her.

* * *

It was nice to be home, in his own room once more. In the last few days Illaro had spent his time rushing across the city meeting with priests, wealthy merchants, noble families and important foreigners. Everything any anything he could do to ensure that when the dragon hatched, he would be able to smoothly rise to power and be accepted at the highest tables without the worry of assassination.

He heard a knocking on the door "Come in" Illaro said. Knowing full well who it was.

He glanced as her as she did. His daughter, her hands still shaking from the fits that she suffered at night. Her body wrapped up in cloth to keep her warm from the sensations of cold that she seemed to suffer every waking moment. The priests said that it was a result of her surviving an attack by the Great Other. An explanation he accepted, knowing that he was blessed by the Lord of Light with a warm dragon egg. The healers said that her mind had been crippled and that they had no idea if she would ever recover.

"F- f- father." she managed to stutter out. He grimaced. As much as he regretted not having sons, his daughters were always well mannered and capable of blending in well with the highborn. A result of their mother's teachings most likely. It was still odd to see the condition of his daughter. A price asked for by R'hllor in exchange for the egg? He wondered if any further tribute would be demanded? If he would be the next one to pay the price?

"How are you recovering?" He asked calmly.

"Slow." came the simple reply.

"I shall ensure that your mother will not attempt to smother you in your sleep again." he said calmly.

"Why?"

"Why would she not? You appear to have been crippled mentally if the words of the healers have any weight. You may recover but the blood of Old Valeria will not suffer to have a cripple as their child. The blood must always be pure. This is the reason given by mothers and grandparents who throw their newborns into the corpse pits, you merely had the misfortune of being older than most. Of course the reason she gave was that you were possessed. As if anyone would believe the excuses of her simple mind."

They stood silent for a moment.

"Do you know how demanding she was when we first married? I was lost in lust and gave into her demands for fine food and wine and silks. Her excessive tastes nearly drove me to slavery as a way of repaying her debts. Of course I put an end to all of that when I realised what her womanly mind was driving me towards. She may be of womanly mind but she is still your mother and has much to teach you of being a woman that you will not be able to learn from anyone else. I have also put it in stern terms that whilst she may discipline you she will not be permitted to kill you or I shall use my authority as a husband to punish her severely. So unless she attempts something drastic once more, you will listen to her."

"Why?" the young girl asked once more.

"Are you shocked?" he asked, "What do you expect from the Old Blood? Even one who has fallen as low as your mother? They are often brilliant or mad. Your mother seems to find solace in switching between the two at her whims. I can not decide if her actions were out of madness or reason."

"No" she replied, "Know reason. But not why."

"Oh? What do you think is the reason that she tried to kill you?"

She unravelled a portion of her robes and from inside of them popped out the head of a red baby dragon.

His mind froze. When had it hatched? He had been away for long stretches of time, building relationships with the institutions and powerful people of the city as well as maintaining his business… but how had he not heard of or been told of _this_. A _dragon_ being born _in his own house!_

"She killed because this." She whispered. "But why?"

His mind froze.

If it was his daughter that had hatched the Dragon and bonded with it… if she was killed then his wife would have the dragon. If he was then killed then she would have a dragon and be unbound to any man.

Able to marry back into the noble blood and return to her life of extravagance.

That bitch.

"Thank you." he said to his daughter. "I will have a word with your mother." He looked to the dragon, "take care of it."

"Her" she whispered. He caught a small smile on her face, "Name... Charizard."

* * *

"So that's what happened." Leaf explained to Nails. The aftermath of the attack was chaos. Everyone was angry and confused. Leaf was on the razor edge of death and had to be helped if she was going to survive. But through it all, no one knew who's body was being worn by the abomination. However in time they were able to confirm one another's identities. Every Singer in the tribe was accounted for.

Though Leaf was left paralysed from the chest down.

Which begged the question of where the Elder had gone?

"But you had been attacked and directly warged, as had your brother. When we looked over both your bodies, we noticed something strange" Leaf began explaining to Nails.

"What?" Nails replied.

"Firstly you should know that the song of flesh is his speciality. It always has been. It is how he was able to knock you out so quickly, by touching vital points on your body and stopping the blood flow."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and… whilst the tribe had been knocked out from his mental strike, he..." Leaf grimaced. "Nails. You will have to leave here with your child as soon as possible. I will send an escort south with you. I do not know if your brother will recover or not but it is clear that you are a target and not safe here. If he recovers we shall find a way to let you know."

"What did he do?" Nails asked. "I've seen the worst of the bastard. For a moment I thought better of him but I will not let him take me again."

"He can do things with the body we can not imagine. What he did to your tribe and your bloodline in particular has not been heard of since the lost ages." Leaf took a deep breath "Nails...you are pregnant."

"No." she whispered.

"From the… _mess_ we found. it seems as if your brother is the father."

"No, no, no." she wept.

"Twins."

Her son slept, unaware and uncaring of his mother's distress.


End file.
